


A Star Wars Christmas Carol

by starwenn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - A Christmas Carol Fusion, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Victorian, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-08-24 16:34:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16643780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwenn/pseuds/starwenn
Summary: "Sheev Marley was dead, to begin with..."Anakin Scrooge has a close encounter with four ghosts in 1843 London who help show him how he can not only change his miserly ways, but keep his grandson Ben from going down the same path.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my "Star Wars" retelling of one of the most famous pieces of holiday literature in the world! Not only am I keeping this in the original 1843 setting (changing some details to fit the characters), but this is my first "Star Wars" fanfic to use many different characters from across all 11 major films, including the Sequels. I hope you enjoy the tale of Anakin Scrooge and his ghostly encounters!

Sheev Marley was dead to begin with. He was dead, as dead as a doornail, and had been for seven years. Anakin Scrooge signed the death certificate and saw to it that he had the least expensive funeral possible. He was Marley's soul heir and soul mourner, and when Marley was gone, the sole partner and owner of Scrooge and Marley, Money Lenders. He never painted out the sign over the door. He answered to Scrooge, or to Marley. It was all the same to him.

Oh, he was a tight-fisted hand-to-the-grindstone, Scrooge! A grasping, squeezing, clutching old sinner. There was never such a miser who had lived in old London Town. Everyone in London hated him or feared him. Scrooge cared not a whiff for their opinions. The only thing he cared about was business and the exchange of money.

His son Luke was his only clerk. Luke, a gentle-faced blond man with large blue eyes, shivered in his little cubby, just off Anakin's. Luke was Anakin's son, one of his two children...but Anakin cared nothing for family, either. The young man got no favors; he squinted by the light of a very dim candle, and attempted to warm his hands by it. Failing in that, he tugged his long scarf around his slender neck and tip-toed into his father's office to warm his hands on his tiny stove.

Anakin's eyes were sharper than Luke believed. He'd barely gotten into the room than the older man with the gold-and-silver hair slapped his hand with the ruler. “What are you doing, boy?” he snarled.

“Ow!” Luke rubbed his hand, turning the same color as the sickly glow in the stove. “I was just trying to, um, thaw out the ink.”

“If you focused on your work, you wouldn't feel the cold!” Anakin waved at him threateningly with the ruler. “Now, get back into your room, or you'll be losing your situation for Christmas!”

The young man very nearly leaped back onto his high old chair. “Yes, sir, Father sir!”

Even as Anakin returned to going over the mortgages, the door was flung open. The diminutive figure who came in, dressed in green striped silk with a wide bonnet over her heavy velvet brown braids, carried a tin cup in one white gloved hand. Her round cheeks were red from a long walk on a chilly night. Anakin merely snorted at her. Though she was his own flesh and blood, Luke's sprightly and strong-willed twin, he didn't even gaze in the direction of the green human whirlwind.

“Merry Christmas, Father.” Leia Scrooge-Solo regarded her parent coolly. “Working hard as always, I see.”

“Christmas!” Anakin piled a few gold coins, but otherwise didn't acknowledge her. “Bah humbug!”

“Christmas a humbug, Father?” She made a face. “Surely you don't mean that!”

The elderly man in the black suit glowered at her over his books. “If I had it worked into my will, any person who went around with 'Merry Christmas' on their lips would be buried in their own pudding, with a stake of holly through their hearts.”

His daughter's scarlet face lit up in indignant anger. “Christmas, Father, is a loving, charitable time. It's a warm and wonderful time! And though it's never put a scrap of gold into my pocket, I say, God bless it!”

“Hurray!” Luke clapped heartily from his cell. “You give the most wonderful speeches, sister!”

She bowed for her appreciative audience. “Thank you, dear brother. You are the most wonderful listener.”

Their father waved his ruler at the tank. “How would that listener like to hear the sound of him being sacked for the holidays?” The clapping ended quickly. Anakin turned his ruler to his daughter. “What are you doing here? I thought you'd be off working for that foolish charity of yours.”

“I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by.” Leia leaned over his desk, tugging her thick wool cape tightly. “Can't you at least spare a little more coal for the stove? It's freezing in here!”

Anakin glared. “Unlike you, girl, I don't waste money on nonsense. Sixpence worth of coal is good enough for any room.”

Leia gave him the same nasty stare back. “This room is almost as cold as your soul. I want nothing from you, Father. Luke wants nothing from you. And yet you treat us like we're dirt in the corners to be brushed aside! Why can't we be friends?”

Her father narrowed his icy blue eyes. “Why, girl, why? Why did you do it? Why did you marry Solo? Han Solo was a pirate and a smuggler. You could have had any man you wanted. That Thomas Isolder came from a good family...”

His daughter rolled her eyes. She'd heard this tirade since the wedding. “He was also rude, conceited, and egotistical. He wanted me to stay at home and make babies. I can't do that, Father. Han understands that. He's a good man now. He runs a shipping business that's doing very well. We have a son! Han loves me, Father, and I love him, and we love Ben, and that's all that matters.”

“Love!” Anakin rolled his eyes, unconsciously resembling the woman before him. “That is the only thing sillier than a Merry Christmas!” He flipped open his ledger again. 

Leia slammed the ledger shut and stared angrily at him. “You didn't think so when Mother was alive.”

Anakin was very close to hitting a woman with his ruler. “Don't you ever mention her name! Ever!” 

“Father,” Luke said from his cell, “why don't you want to talk about Mother? Did something happen between you two before she died?” 

The ruler waved threateningly at Luke again. “You, stay out of this.” He returned to Leia. “You, daughter, are quite a speaker. If you were a man, I'd suggest you run for Parliment.”

“I'd do many things if I were a man.” Leia sighed. “Including getting you to listen to me. All I wanted to do was ask you to the party Han and I are holding tomorrow night. Most of the members of my charity and all our friends and neighbors will be there. If nothing else, come talk to your grandson. Ben was just apprenticed to Edgar Snoke at the Bank of England, and he very much admires you.”

“That apprenticeship is the only sensible thing you've mentioned since you arrived.” Anakin smirked. “I knew Snoke would be good for the boy. Get some of those mealy-mouthed ideas his father planted out of his head.”

“I'm not so sure I agree.” Leia shook her head. “Snoke has even fewer scruples than you do. Ben's starting to act more and more like him.”

Anakin started scratching on his ledger again. “I'm too busy for parties. Load of rubbish, if you ask me. You'd be better off using that money for your own business ventures.”

“It's only once a year, and it makes so many people happy.” She sighed and gathered her papers. “It's no use. I shall keep my Christmas humor to the last. I hope you have a good Christmas, Father.” 

Luke waved from his tall chair, nearly sending himself toppling to the floor. “Merry Christmas, Leia! I might try to bring over Mara and the family a little later.”

Leia hugged him. “Merry Christmas, brother!” She went over to his chair to give him a hug, then continued in a softer voice. “How's Temiri? I know you said he wasn't strong...”

He bit his lip. “I'm not sure he's going to last much longer. If only we could afford the treatment...”

“We'll find a doctor. Most of my money is going into the charity, but there has to be someone in London who can help him and is willing to take a lower fee.” She rubbed his head, mussing his hair. “So buck up, brother. It'll be a wonderful holiday. You'll see!”

“Hey!” Luke laughed as he pushed Leia off his head. “That was my hair!” He smoothed the unruly golden waves, then gave her a hug. “We'll see you Christmas Day.”

Leia squeezed him tightly. “See you then!” She glared at Anakin one last time for good measure before slamming out the office door. 

The door had no sooner closed than it opened again. Two well-dressed people entered, both carrying tin cups. Anakin knew them both well, in another lifetime. “Snips? Ahsoka?” He frowned at the young woman with the reddish skin in the orange and blue print gown and the white wool cape, her long black braids hidden under her snowy bonnet. “Ahsoka...Miss Tano...what brings you here? I haven't seen you since you were were smaller than me.” An older man with a snow-white beard and a heavy green coat followed behind her. “And Captain Rex Fett. Shouldn't you still be in the Royal Army?”

“I'm retired now, Anakin.” The craggy-faced gentleman shook his cup. “Me and my mates are doing work for an old friend.”

“Sky...uh, Mr. Scrooge,” Ahsoka began, “we're representing the Alliance Charitable Fund. At this time of year, it's customary for us to gather funds for the poor and destitute.”

Ashoka shivered at the look her former employer gave her. It would have frozen the Thames in July. “Are there no work houses, Miss Tano?”

She only nodded. “Plenty of work houses.”

“And the prisons?” The older man flipped through his books. “Are they still in working order?”

Rex bowed. “Yes, they are, sir. Still, I wish I could say they were not.”

She pulled a pad out of her velvet drawstring purse. “What will I put you down for?”

Anakin's head went back into his ledger. “Nothing.”

Rex frowned. “You wish to remain anonymous, sir?”

“I wish to remain alone!” The aging businessman shot up with a roar. “I pay taxes for the services I mentioned. They cost enough. Those who are badly off should go there.”

“But many can't, sir,” Ahsoka tried to explain, “and many would rather die!”

“Then let them die, and decrease the surplus population.” Her former guardian sat back down, his fingers wrapping around the quil. “Besides, I don't know that.”

“No, you don't.” Ahsoka's blue eyes hardened. “I can see we've wasted enough of your time, Sky...Mr. Scrooge. Good afternoon.”

“Mate,” Rex said quietly, “you're not the man I thought you were. Maybe if you'd live in the present a little, you'd understand how these people are sufferin'.”

His friend dipped the quill in the inkwell and started scratching numbers on his ledger again. “It's not my business to know, Captain Fett. You tend to your work, and I'll tend to mine.”

“Wait!” Luke waved to Ahsoka. “Here. My wife and I don't have much, but we have enough to put a roof over our heads. Many don't even have that.” He quickly dropped a few coins into her cup, before Scrooge realized what he was doing and lectured him on wasting money.

“Thank you, sir!” Her smile stretched from ear to ear. “Bless you!”

“And a very merry Christmas to you, lad,” the captain added in his gravely voice.

“A Merry...” Luke looked over his shoulder to make sure Scrooge wasn't listening, then added, “a Merry Christmas to both of you as well!” The duo thanked him heartily and were on their way.

Scrooge and his son worked long into the night. The lamplighters were just beginning to ply their trades when Anakin shut his ledger for the night. “You'll be wanting the full day off tomorrow, I presume?”

“Father, it's only once a year.” Luke gulped. “I did promise Mara I would spend they day with her and the children.”

“How Sheev Marley took in such an opinionated woman, I will never know.” Anakin sighed at his offspring's hopeful face. “Very well. You can have the full day, but be here by 9 sharp on Boxing Day morning, or it comes out of your paycheck.”

“Oh, thank you, Father!” Luke leaped down from his chair and snatched his worn old overcoat from a hook on the wall. “You're so kind!”

Anakin took his own coat as well. “Never mind the mush. I only agreed to it because no one else will be open tomorrow. Everyone in this entire town is a fool but me. I want to save the coal for a day when there will be actual work to do.”

“That's true, Father.” Luke couldn't get his long muffler and worn hat on fast enough. “Merry Christmas...I mean, I know, Bah Humbug, Father!” 

The little clerk dashed out as fast as his legs could take him. He joined a group of boys on the ice near the grocer's and slid five times in honor of it being Christmas Eve, then rushed home, just in time for Blind Man's Bluff and charades. His dear Mara had kept dinner sizzling hot for him, and his children were all ready to give him kisses and chatter a mile a minute about Father Christmas and the pudding Mother was making for the holiday.

Scrooge went in the opposite direction to his lonely home on a dark street in one of the oldest parts of London. On his way, he passed the First Order Savings and Loan, a bank which he had put up the capital to begin with his colleague Snoke. Already, it was returning it's original investment with double the interest. He'd heard rumors whispered among other businessmen in the city that the Savings and Loan inflated their interests and had cheated several lower-income families out of their hard-earned pennies. Scrooge brushed this information off as petty gossip. 

“Greetings, Mr. Snoke. Closing up, I see. I heard you'll be open tomorrow.” Privately, he thought the old skinflint dressed far too extravagantly for a man of means. His rich yellow suit and fur-trimmed overcoat came from the finest and most expensive tailor in London. Even his brown leather shoes gleamed. 

“Only for a few hours in the morning, enough for some of our younger clerks to get some work done.” Snoke's smirk was entirely too satisfied. “I have some of the best young minds from Oxford and Cambridge working for me, Scrooge. I suppose you're still clinging to that meek mouse of a son of yours.”

“He works cheap, which is more than I could say about those spoiled youths in your office.” Scrooge nodded as a sober young man dressed all in black joined them. “Hello, Benjamin. I'm glad to see someone in your family has a brain in his head.”

Benjamin nodded. He had his father's thick, wavy hair that blew in all directions and the nose and chin that jutted out just a bit too far, but he'd also inherited his mother's deep brown eyes and soft pale skin. Those eyes were nearly as icy as his relative's. “Thank you, Grandfather. I'm looking forward to beginning my career here. Mr. Snoke says that if I stay with him and work hard, I could move up to junior partner by the spring.”

“Junior partner!” Anakin shook his head. “Why, I was junior partner with Sheev Marley within three months of my joining him. You work hard, lad. Keep your nose to the grindstone. Don't waste your time with day-to-day distractions.”

“I intend to do just that, Grandfather.” Benjamin had a deep voice that belied his thin face. At least he'd filled out a bit since he had last seen him. A few months ago, he was about ready to ask Snoke if he ever fed the boy. Now, Benjamin more closely resembled a foot soldier for the military, rather than one of the greatest young financial minds in England. 

They parted ways shortly after. Snoke returned to his massive mansion in one of the most fashionable quarters of Mayfair. Benjamin went home to his parents, where he spent the rest of the night quarreling with his father about how much he was spending on their family dinner the next day.

Scrooge made his way through the fog and ice to his street. No beggar stopped him to ask for a shilling. No man requested of him the time of day. Children playing in the streets darted out of his way. Even the dogs of the blind men seemed to know him, taking their masters around him rather than dealing with his wrath. 

The rooms in which Scrooge lived had once belonged to his partner, Sheev Marley. They were in an ancient house that were let out to a few other people, in quiet and lonesome part of London. Scrooge had just pushed the key in the lock like he always did when he happened to notice the knocker on the heavy wooden door. It was a large brass knocker, slightly tarnished with age and frequent use. 

As Scrooge continued to stare at the knocker, it changed before his eyes. He found himself staring right into the face of Sheev Marley. It could be none other. It was him before time had left him a frightening hag of a man, when he still had those keen blue eyes and the thick silver hair. It wasn't real...yet, it seemed so real, that Scrooge was almost tempted to reach out and touch it. 

Suddenly, the face let out such a wail that Scrooge jumped back! When he recovered sufficiently to return to the steps, the face had vanished, and become a knocker again. “Bah!” Scrooge grumbled. “I'm just seeing things. It's this miserable weather. It gets into your bones.”

Scrooge took a candle and walked his usual meloncholy way up the creaking staircase, caring not a whit for the darkness. Darkness was cheap, and Scrooge liked it. Darkness meant not wasting money on a lamp that could go back into the business, where it belonged. 

When he arrived, he slipped into his night clothes and cap, and put together a pot of gruel for dinner. His mind couldn't help returning to the sight of Marley's head on the knocker. No matter how much he analyzed the situation, he couldn't come up with a rational explanation for how this had come about. The lengthening shadows of evening were making him increasingly nervous. He jumped at every noise as the old house settled.

And then...it happened. A small bell rang sharply to his right. The bell had originally been used to call servants, but he hadn't touched it since he lived there. There was no wind in the house, and he wasn't close enough to it for it to knock against him.

No sooner had the bells ended, then the scrape of chains being dragged across the wood floors. “Go away!” Scrooge called as he triple-locked his doors. The rattling chains became louder and louder, joined by a long, loud moan.

“Annnnakkkinn Scroooggge...” It couldn't be. Sheev Marley walked through his door without opening it, without touching the knob. He was transparent, like a ghost, and yet Scrooge could see that he looked the same as he had the day he passed on. Same black velvet waistcoat, much-tattered and worn now, same silk blouse and breeches. The white handkerchief around his head was new, as were the chains he dragged behind them. He was wrapped with chains, chains that were attached to ledger books and cash boxes and safes. They held him down, forced him to jangle slowly across his parlor floor. 

Scrooge gulped. “Who...who are you?”

“Ask me who I was,” the spirit boomed. 

“Then who were you?” The older man made a face. “You're particular, for a shade.”

“In life,” the spirit intoned, “I was your partner, Sheev Marley.”

“I don't believe it!” His former partner waved a finger at him. “You could be an undigested bit gruel or leftover tea that didn't go down properly. There's more of gravy than of grave about you!” 

Marley let out such a wail that Scrooge dropped his pan and yanked his cap over his ears. “Spare me the horror melodrama! Why do you torture me so?” He waved that finger at him. “You always enjoyed it. Ordered me around like a child, like I was still your student.”

“I have come to warn you, Anakin.” Marley somehow manage to speak by barely moving his lips. “You may still have a chance of escaping my fate.”

“But Sheev,” Anakin protested feebly, “you were always a good man of business.”

Marley's blue eyes narrowed as he gave Anakin such a glare, he ducked down as far as he could into his chair. “Mankind should have been my business, Scrooge! Humanity and their welfare should have been my business!” He waved that finger in Anakin's face. “Tonight, you will be visited by three spirits.”

“I think I'd rather not.” Anakin nearly turned as pale as his deceased partner. “One ghost is more than enough!”

He threw his hands over his ears as Marley wailed even louder than before. “If you do not heed their warnings,” he moaned, “you will not be able to escape my fate!” Somehow, Marley managed to glide to the window despite his chains. “Look at them, Scrooge! Look at the spirits!” A long, bony finger pointed out to the courtyard below. “They were all good 'men of business,' and now they're condemned to live in misery!”

Scrooge timidly followed Marley to the window and peered outside. Ghosts of every description moaned and screamed on the frost-bitten grass of the yard. All wore waistcoats and were bound by heavy chains. Three were locked together; another was held down by a chain attached to a great iron safe. One man reached desperately for a mother wrapped in scarves and her sickly child, but the chains kept him from aiding her. 

The moaning became so terrible, Scrooge finally slammed the window shut with a resounding crash! He looked up as a knock was heard at the door. “Mr. Scrooge! What was that banging all about? People are trying to sleep at nights!”

He opened the door. No ghosts, no Marley. He'd vanished without a trace. Only Jyn, the young woman who was the landlord of the building with her Spanish husband Cassian. “What's with all the yelling, mate?” She grumbled, her pretty face pursed into a sour grimace, and pulled a knitted wrap around her rumpled night shift. A candle flickered in a tarnished brass holder. “Half the household has complained about the banging up here.”

Anakin frowned. “I thought I saw something outside, Mrs. Andor. It startled me so that I slammed the door without thinking. It won't happen again, I can assure you.”

“See that it doesn't.” Jyn made a face. “You're fussy enough about the rent and the cost of repairs for this place as it is. Cassian and I do enough to keep this old house from fallin' apart around our ears without your constant yellin' over somethin' or other. Good night, sir.” 

“Good night, woman!” Scrooge rolled his eyes as he left. Jyn was nearly as difficult to deal with as that black devil of an employer of hers. He'd only had to deal with Saw Gerrera, a former army general, twice, both times when he was selling property. The old man was so tenacious about getting the better of the deal and so obsessed with making sure his property was well-used, he vowed never to deal with him again.

Anakin took his own candle from the small table in the parlor and used it to check every inch of his rooms. All was in the usual order. His meager wardrobe was undisturbed in the closet; the few books and other papers he owned sat on the shelves in perfect unison. 

“It was that gruel, that's what it was.” Anakin set the candle down and blew it out. “Just some bad gruel.” He snuggled down into the threadbare brocade covers. “I'm sure I'll forget all about this in the morning.” No sooner had he closed his eyes than he fell into a deep sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first spirit takes Anakin back to his tragic past, where we learn what happened to his wife Padme and how he fell into a life of bitterness and greed.

Anakin awoke to a silvery chime, coming from the side of his bed. “What's this?” He snatched the clock. “Midnight? Why, it was nearly quarter-past when I went to bed. Surely something hasn't happened to the sun to make it stop revolving? An icicle must have gotten into the works.”

As he fiddled with the clock, he became aware of a radiant golden light coming from the foot of his bed. A figure stood by his headboard, dressed in a snow-white robe, it's dark hair bound with blue ribbons barely visible under the hood. She was small and delicate, like an old woman, yet her face was smooth and without a wrinkle. The light danced around her in waves, giving her the look of a fairy, or a witch.

“Who are you?” Scrooge grumbled. “What are you doing in my room?”

Her voice was clear and tinkling, like the unused bell in that corner. “I am the Ghost of Christmas Past, Anakin.”

“Long past?”

“No.” She smiled a little at him. “Your past.”

He frowned as she went to the window. “Why do you trouble me?”

She opened the window with a wave of her slender reddish fingers. “Your welfare.”

Anakin clung to his old quilt. “Frankly miss, a good night's sleep would do far more for my welfare than traipsing around London in my night clothes.” 

“Your reformation, then.” She beckoned him to the window. “Take heed. Come.”

Scrooge held back. “But I'm mortal. I'll fall.”

“A touch of my hand,” she said with her silvery tinkle, “and you shall be upheld.”

“Something tells me I should have stayed in bed.” Scrooge still did as he was told, grasping her hand as firmly as he could.

To his shock, they soared out the window, flying over London. He couldn't feel the cold or the wind, only the air as they seemingly floated past roof tops and black tree limbs and chimneys. Gradually, the houses thinned, and the trees became more numerous. The roads were fewer and less-traveled. As he looked down, he could see young boys running to and fro, pelting each other with snowballs in the yard next to a worn old manor built from red brick that had mellowed into a deeper nut-brown.

“I...I think I know this place.” Scrooge couldn't believe his eyes as they landed right on the front lawn. “I remember it so well. This is Coruscant Manor, my old school. I was a boy here.” He laughed as two youths rushed by them, pelting each other with snow. “There's Kitscher! He was my best friend. And Wald! He was the best at snowball fights.” He waved to the boys, but they didn't acknowledge him, or even look his way. “Hello, boys! It's been so long!”

The Spirit put her hand on his shoulder. “This is merely the shadow of things that have been. They are unaware of our presence.” She glided through the snow, giving off shimmering beams with every swish of her cape, as she lead him to a window. “Look here. A solitary boy sits in the class room. Do you know him, Anakin?”

“Know him?” Anakin hated the lump that rose to his throat as he observed the tow-headed child hunched over a story book. “Too well. I was that boy, once. That's young Anakin Scrooge.” He smiled as the child poured over the story, his eyes gleaming with delight at the pictures. “Oh, that's 'Robinson Crusoe!' It was one of my favorite stories in school. I loved reading about the parrot most of all, with it's rainbow plumage and those feathers like lettuce sticking out of the top of it's head.”

The Spirit nodded. “Too bad you don't show that type of imagination in your business dealings today.” 

That was when...she hurried in. A tiny creature, bedecked in pink ribbons and frills and a velvet bonnet of the very latest style of forty years before. Anakin's breath caught in his throat. She'd never looked so beautiful, even as a girl of fourteen.

“Padme.” 

“Anakin!” Padme rushed to his side, her dark brown curls flying. “Your mother has sent me to bring you home! Old Watto has relented. You can come home for the holidays! We'll see so much of each other!” She threw her arms around him, almost lifting him off his feet. 

His throat tightened as another familiar figure followed her. “Ben.” He was taller than her, a lanky youth in a reddish overcoat and short, bristling ginger hair, his grin nearly splitting his face. He reached over and gave his friend a hug.

“You're going to come home with old Quenton Jenson and me.” Obi-Wan Benjamin Willkins gave his younger friend a big hug. “You and your mother will stay with us for as long as you like. I already heard your mother is courting a fine farmer named Cliegg. Quenton and I will be your tutors, and neither of us will ever have to return to this place. Oh, we'll have wonderful times!

“Oh Padme, Benny!” He threw his arms around Obi, then Padme. “Padme, you must live forever! Forever and ever! You're like an angel! Mr. Kloon told me about angels. He said they're the most beautiful creatures in the world.”

Padme turned quite scarlet in the cheeks as Obi-Wan snickered. “No one lives forever, Anakin! What strange things you talk about!”

“Padme,” Anakin said quickly, “I have a gift for you. I made it in shop class, from some of the birch wood that grows here.” He handed her a carved pendant on a chain. “I made one for Mother, too, but this one is special. I worked on it all night, and it's the best thing I ever made. I was going to ask Ben to take it with him when he went home for Christmas, but now I can give it to you in person!”

She ran the smooth carving over her fingers. “It's beautiful, Anakin. You do wonderful work. I think you're really gifted.”

He blushed. “Thank you! It's just something I did after school. I'm glad you like it. I hope Mother likes hers, too.”

“Children! What are you doing, gossiping in the school room?” All three turned around as Quenton Jenson, Ben's guardian and a teacher at the schooll, entered. Anakin was normally fond of his lessons, but today, his face looked dark and implacable under his long brown queue. His heavy brown jacket gave him a look of menace.

“We're just...we're talking.” Ben pushed Anakin and Padme behind him. “I swear it won't happen again, Quenton. Really, it won't!”

That was when Mr. Jenson let loose with one of his rich, deep laughs. “Not to worry, Benjamin. I was just going to ask you if any of you would be interested in a picnic lunch with me before you leave for the holidays.” 

The children gasped with delight as he produced a basket of hard-boiled eggs, fruit, and nuts. This was accompanied by a curiously heavy butter cake and curiously light wine. When the quartet had laughed and joked and had their fill of the feast, they helped Quenton load Anakin's trunk into his great silvery sleigh and drove off into the afternoon.

“Quenton was such a good man,” Anakin murmured. “He was a wonderful teacher. It was a great shock to us when he died in that robbery in Camden Town. I was glad Benjamin managed to catch that thief Maul Dathomir. Benjamin and I needed each other more than ever after Quenton passed away.”

The Spirit only reached for his hand. “Come, Scrooge. There's still much to see.” 

They had no sooner stepped out of the school room than they found themselves on a festive street in London. It was Christmas Eve night, and the lamplighters were plying their trade, scurrying from pole to pole like mice on a kitchen floor. The lights flickered in one large window before them that. Scrooge new that window, and he even more recalled the young face that peered through it.

“Do you know this place, Scrooge?” The spirit asked gently.

“Was I ever apprenticed here?” Anakin grinned back at her. “This is old Yoda Fezziwig's loan company! Benjamin and I had our first jobs here!” He pressed his nose against the frosted windowpane, watching the activity inside.

There he was, now a strapping young man of twenty, his ways not yet set. His short golden hair was pulled back into the braid worn by many apprentices. Benjamin, now a bit older and more filled-out, sported a heavy apron over his working clothes. There were other apprentices, men and women, pretty French girl Aalaya Secura, brilliant black-clad Luminara Unduli, and Caleb Dumas, who was at the ripe age of 12 was the youngest errand boy the firm had ever had. Kit was a handsome youth whose thick braids and winning smile made him popular with the young ladies, while Quinlan possessed a peppery temper and fondness for a good after-hours brawl in the local tavern.

They were overseen by the intimidating moor, Mace Windu, with his shaved head and tight purple vest and breeches. He skulked around the room, giving short barks to everyone within firing range. No one dared to go against his orders! Anakin privately believed that, given the appropriate eye patch, Mace could well pass for a pirate or the head of some undercover spy network. 

“No more work today will there be, young people.” Anakin's smile grew wider as Yoda Fezziwig shuffled down the stairs from his own office. He looked just as he remembered him, with that slightly greenish wrinkled skin and the ears that jut out on both sides and made him look something like a fairy-tale elf. “Christmas Eve, it is. No day to work, it is. Mr. Scrooge and Mr. Willikins, move the desks to the side, you will. Miss Secura, bring the gifts to the main table. Set up the dishes for the feast, Master Windu and I will. Be our best Christmas ball yet, it will!”

Scrooge couldn't help laughing. “Yoda was ancient, even when I was a lad. He said he was 69, but we thought he was 900, if he was a day. He was a good man, though. Firm but kind. Patient. Never paid us less than we were worth. He could be cantankerous, but he was wise, and always fair in business.”

The Ghost raised an eyebrow as Scrooge pulled back and sighed. “What is it?”

He shrugged. “Just wish I could talk with my son right now. He's a lot like I was then.”

The room was cleared quick as a wink. Anakin and Benjamin moved in tandem, laughing and joking together about their work, Yoda's strange speech patterns, and all the pretty ladies they hoped to dance with at the party. A small girl, her long black braids bound with blue ribbons flying behind her, rushed about, sneaking sips of apple cider and teasing Anakin when he dropped a box on his foot. 

“Snips,” he whispered. “Lord, it's Snips, when she was just a child of 13. I took her under my wing when Mr. Kloon brought her here. Benjamin and I taught her everything we knew, when we could keep her out of trouble.”

He remembered every moment of that night. All the guests came in, each and every one red-faced from the cold and their holiday spirits in their high-waisted gowns and velvet breeches and waistcoats. Here came tiny Mrs. Maz, Yoda's wife, who was known as a terror who spoke her mind and lorded it over her husband. Here came their daughters, and the six young gentlemen whose hearts they stole. Here came three of Aalaya's suitors, all of them crowded around the lovely daughter of France in her blue silk dress and twin braids. Stern Luminara, dressed in black velvet even at a party, preferred to stand to the side and ladle the punch into pewter cups. 

He laughed even heartier as a troop of soldiers arrived, shouting and saluting and ogling the ladies. “There's Captain Rex, and all of his regiment. I think they were mostly related to him. I always marveled at how alike they all looked. I never knew most of their names. We just called them by their nicknames. Is that Fives, and Captain Cody? He was a good friend of Ben. Yoda had belonged to their regiment in his day, and many of them trained with Master Koon at his school.” A small boy pushed his way between them, trying to get at the sugar plums wrapped in foil on the tree. “And there's little Robert Fett! Jim Fett's boy. Quiet lad, but he could be a handful when you angered him.”

That was when she arrived. She lit up the room the moment she entered. His Padme. His lovely, sweet Padme. She was on the arm of her father, the Lord Amidala, a highly ranked member of Parliment. He hadn't seen her since she was sent to finishing school in Paris and he went to London for his apprenticeship.

“Ben,” the young Anakin gasped, grabbing at his best friend's arm, “there she is! What will I say to her? What can I say to her? She's rich and beautiful, and I'm...”

“A good man with a good job who's coming up in the world.” Ben nearly shoved him right into her. “She's an old friend, Anakin. Why don't you say 'hello' to her? That's only proper.”

He would never forget how nervous he was. The sweat gleamed on him in the lamplight under his tight paper collar. “I'll do it if you come with me.”

Ben patted his back. “What are friends for?”

It was little Ahsoka who finally managed to drag Padme away from the glittering throngs of men and women who surrounded her. “Miss Amidala,” she squeaked in her girlish voice, “Anakin wants to talk to you! He's one of my best friends, and he thinks you're the most beautiful woman in the whole world!”

“Really?” Padme chuckled as Anakin's face flamed. “Well, I'm flattered, Mr. Scrooge. It's been a long time, hasn't it?”

“Yes, it has.” Anakin coughed, trying to remember his words. Did he have words? What were those? “Uh...well, it is nice to see you again, Miss...uh, Padme. That's right.”

“It's nice to see you again too, Anakin.” She opened her silk fan from the Orient with the printed flowers. “I missed you when I was in Paris. You've grown so much since then! I hardly recognize you.”

“You've...you've changed, too,” Anakin stammered. “You're even prettier than I remember. More...more you.”

Ben grinned as the music started. “I think I see Lady Satine of Mandalorshire over there by the punch. I'm going to have a talk with her. Why don't you two dance? Get to know one another again.”

Ahsoka tugged on Anakin's sleeve. “If you dance with Lady Padme now, you have to promise to give me the next dance on your card. I've only danced with Caleb, and he's such a baby! He kept stepping on my toes.”

“I will, Snips.” He patted the little girl on her head. “I promise.” 

Anakin sighed as the musicians launched into a dreamy strings ballad. He and Padme glided across the floor, lost to the world. It didn't matter that he wasn't much of a dancer. All they cared about was each other and being together.

“I'm glad Yoda holds this ball every year,” Padme was saying. “It's so kind of him.”

“We always look forward to it.” Anakin's smile was rather dazed. “He holds a spring ball before Easter as well. They're the best times of the year. He even gives the leftovers from the party out to the less fortunate.”

Padme sighed. “I feel terrible for those people. So many citizens of London are ill-clad, hungry, and either have insufficient shelter, or no shelter at all.”

“The poor have places where they can go.” Anakin made a face. “Sheev Marley, Yoda's accountant, says that the work houses should be plenty sufficient for people who can't even be bothered to find a decent job. They're sponges, Padme.”

“Not everyone is lucky enough to have the opportunities we've had.” Her pink lips twisted into a frown. “I convinced my father to take me to one of those work houses. They're hotbeds of abuse and neglect. Someone should help these people.”

Her suitor shook his head. “What they should be doing is helping themselves. Mr. Marley says that the self-made man is the most justified. If we constantly do things for them, they'll come to expect it, instead of landing on their own two feet.”

“I know of this Marley.” Padme nodded at the older man sipping punch in a corner. He dressed simply in dark blue that brought out his keen eyes and silver hair. This was before that terrible disease later that left him resembling a hundred-year-old crone in his 50's. “He was my father's accountant, until Father dismissed him over missing funds. He didn't think he could trust him.”

“Your father was wrong,” Anakin shot back. “Mr. Marley is a good, kind man. He's been very helpful for me. He's would never steal.”

She eyed him from across the room. He was already talking to Mace Windu; their arguments could be heard over the din. “I'm not so sure I agree with that.”

The song ended all too soon. Ahsoka dashed over to him, snatching his hand. “Come on, Anakin! Rex said the next song is going to be a lot faster than that last one! I'll show you all the steps Aalaya taught me! They're the latest dance steps from Paris!”

“I'll join you in a second, Snips.” He turned to Padme with a red face, and not entirely from the dance. “How long are you going to be in town? Would you like to join me for a cup of tea at the shop around the corner tomorrow?”

“We're going to be giving out our boxes to the poor tomorrow at Camden Town.” Padme leaned over and smiled at him. “But I'd love to get together with you for tea the day after.”

His handsome face glowed like the lamps that brightened the walls and tables. “I'd be honored, Padme.” 

“Anakin!” Padme grinned and pointed upwards at the dark green leaves and white berries over their heads. “Look where we are!” She grinned and gave him a deep kiss before he could escape. “Merry Christmas, Anakin!”

He could only give her a dazed smile when they pulled apart. “Uh...yeah. Merry Christmas!”

Scrooge couldn't help himself. He felt his feet move with the beat of the dancers. He chuckled as Ben blushed as he chatted with lovely Lady Satine. Old Yoda danced remarkably well for a man of his years and height, and his wife was even better. They lead the dancers through reels and jigs that left everyone breathless and hungry for the piles of sugared fruits, dates, nuts, and sandwiches stuffed with turkey or venison. 

Only Anakin and Ben remained in the end to help Yoda and Mace return the furniture to their usual places. “That was the most fun I've had in...well, maybe in my life!” Anakin remembered himself saying. 

Ben nodded, his grin a little dreamy as he thought of the lovely Lady Satine. “Was there ever such a party?”

Anakin took his coat as soon as he set the last chair in place. “Was there ever such an employer?”

Ben took his coat and scarf. “No, never! Yoda's as good as gold and better!”

“All right, you jokers.” Mace took his own coat. “Let's get you two home to your families, before Anakin's mother has my head.”

“A small matter,” the Ghost stated as Mace blew the last light out, “to make these silly people so full of gratitude.”

“Small?” Anakin growled. “It's not small at all! Those parties cost a fortune, but he did them because he himself was a good man under that cranky demeanor, and he wanted to make us happy.”

The Ghost merely nodded and beckoned with her torch. “Come, Scrooge. There's still so much to see.”

They flashed-forward to the tea shop where he met Padme on Boxing Day. He even remembered that yellow-pink dress and the gold snood she wore. Padme did always believe in dressing in the height of fashion, even when she was delivering food to the foulest parts of London. 

One meeting for tea turned into many. There were skating trips, rides into the countryside, dances, picnics. He laughed as he showed off for her on one venture to her family's country home, Naboo Estate. They had a massive picnic in the garden, and he tried to show off by riding a horse bareback. When he fell off and she went to see if he was hurt, he pulled her with him, and they went rolling and laughing all the way down the hill. 

“We used to have such fun together.” Anakin's voice caught in his throat. “Sometimes, Ben would join us with Lady Satine, or we'd take Ahsoka to a candy shop for a treat, but it was usually just the two of us. Padme had the gentlest, kindest heart in England. She had the extraordinary ability to make everyone around her happy, even when she herself was hurting.”

Just as Padme and Anakin were walking back to the Manor, his mother's fussy old assistant Cedric dashed over in his golden livery, his pinched face as nervous as ever in his gold glasses. “Oh dear! Master Anakin, come quickly! Your mother was riding home from church when she was in an accident with a drunkard driving a carriage. She's in critical condition at your stepfather Cliegg's home even as we speak.”

“Mother.” Anakin barely got out a strangled whisper. The only woman he had ever loved as much as Padme was his mother. She'd largely raised him alone before marrying Cliegg Lars, and then raised Lars' son Owen as well. She never turned down a person in need, never let a dog go hungry. How could this happen to such a good woman?

All he remembered of that day was giving Padme his leave, then rushing home to his stepfather's farm just outside the city be by his mother's side. He got to her bedside just in time. He was told by a doctor and her crippled husband Cliegg that something had punctured a lung. She lived long enough to touch his face one more time, then die in his arms.

“Everything changed after they buried her,” Anakin's voice was a low monotone as he watched his youthful self sob. “I helped the police capture the men who ran her down. Filthy drunks, they were. They were sent to prison for life, and they died there. Good riddance for killing a woman!”

“And yet, they had children,” the Ghost said softly. “They had families. Those families were without their fathers. You're not the only one who lost people you love.”

“I guess...” Anakin frowned, then shook his head angrily. “No! They were nothing but rats! They had to be punished for hurting Mother!”

The Ghost put her orange hand on Anakin's shoulder. “At least you had Padme there to comfort you.”

He nodded, tears spilling down his pale cheeks. “Yes. She drove over the very next day to pay her respects. With Mother gone, she and Ben and my job were all I had.”

The scene changed again, to the happiest day of his life. He and Padme stood in the garden of her family's manor, accompanied only by a few friends, his mother's assistant – now their butler – Cedric, and the loyal blacksmith Rudyard Deton. Padme wore white antique Irish lace trimmed with pearls and looked radiant against the setting sun through the trees. He sported an old black velvet suit he borrowed from Benjamin and looked nervous.

“I promise you, Padme,” Anakin murmured, “that you will want for nothing. I will work to make everything for you. We'll have a wonderful home, a fine wardrobe, anything you desire. I want nothing but the best for you.”

She leaned over him. “Then you only have to give me your love. That's enough for me.”

The Ghost frowned. “Would that you had listened to her. You threw yourself into work barely two weeks after the wedding.”

“Yes, but I always made time for her.” He watched once again as time performed its terrible dance. Anakin and Padme took their own apartment in the city, near Yoda's counting house. At first, Anakin continued with the picnics and skating and drives that they had loved. They comforted Ben after his beloved Lady Satine died of cholera and watched Ahsoka grow into a young woman.

“I hated it when Snips left for another job in Canterbury.” Anakin frowned as he watched the girl, now a nearly-grown woman, walk out the door of Yoda's counting house with barely a look over her shoulder. “She was accused of stealing by another apprentice. They declared her innocent, but she felt that she no longer belonged there. I never saw her again until tonight.”

Less than a year after his wedding and Ahsoka's departure, he was called to a just-opened counting house a few streets from Yoda's. “I've been watching you, Scrooge,” Sheev Marley told him. He looked dignified, in his sober brown suit. The room hadn't changed much in 20 years. The furniture was the same cheap designs, and the shelves were still filled with dusty financial tombs. The air in the room was nearly freezing, even in early April. “You're a smart young man, smarter than most of those other young fools at Yoda's. You work just as hard as them, and yet, Yoda and Windu refuse to promote you to partner.”

Anakin bristled...and the elder Anakin frowned. “Thank you, sir. Mr. Yoda says I'm not ready yet for partner, but I agree with you. I've been passed over for partner twice now. They say they don't trust my dealings. They go against the ethics of the company, they say.”

“Poppycock.” Sheev waved him into a chair. “You're partner material, and have been for years. I knew Yoda was holding you back. Come work for me, boy. Yoda's too soft, and Windu is too rigid. I'll pay you what you're worth, and then some. You want money, don't you? I know you're married to that lovely Miss Amidala. If you work for me, you could afford to buy her a nice home away from the city noise, clothes, anything she wanted.”

“But I have friends at Yoda's. I've been there for almost a decade.” Anakin sighed. “Let me think it over.”

Sheev patted his hand. “You do that, boy. Come to me tomorrow with your answer.”

They flashed to the small but cozy apartment he and Padme shared in the city. It was nothing fancy, and certainly not what Padme was used to, but it was home. He remembered how radiant she looked, sitting by the window as he came in. There was a...glow to her, in that blue dress with the light silk wrap. She ran into his arms the moment he arrived.

“Anakin,” she exclaimed, “I have something wonderful to tell you. I went to the doctor's this morning. The queasy stomach I've had for the past few days? Well, it's something far more wonderful. You're going to be a father. We'll be having a child!”

“A child?” Anakin watched the whole range of emotions settle on his youthful face...but mostly shock. “We're going to have a child?”

“Yes!” Padme grinned. “It'll be wonderful. We'll turn that old spare parlor into a nursery, and my mother has said she'll be willing to watch it during the day, when I'm working with Father and you're at work. But most of all, it'll be something that we both created. It'll bring us together.”

“I...you mean...” He could barely find the words. “Do you know what it'll be?”

Padme shook her head. “Not yet. I think I'd rather have it be a surprise.” She gave him her gentle smile. “I'm personally hoping for a little boy, with golden hair and blue eyes like yours.”

His hand settled on her round stomach. He laughed as he felt the bump against his fingers. “With a kick like that? It's definitely a girl.” 

It was then that he knew he had to take Marley's offer. He had to. He would not let this child lose a parent. The child would have everything, just like her mother. He would watch her laugh and grow in her mother's arms. 

“I left Yoda's the very next day,” Anakin admitted as they reappeared in front of Yoda's. “We bought them out three months later. Yoda hadn't been doing well for years. Mace Windu didn't agree with the price we asked for. He had an...an accident after a quarrel with Marley.” 

He jumped back...as a body went flying out a window. Anakin's young self, already showing signs of the indifference that would mark much of his adult life, watched from the shattered pane. “There.” Marley could be heard saying from the second floor. “Anakin, tell no one what you saw today. No one! If anyone gets word of this, we could be ruined!”

He winced as he heard his younger self swear he wouldn't tell. The Ghost turned on him, her light swirling around her like a violent cloud. “You let him get away with murder! For what? To sell off a business that had meant something to the community for fifty years?”

“It wasn't making money anymore!” Anakin pulled back as physicians loaded the body into a carriage and police officers rushed upstairs. “If I had told the police what I knew, I would have gone to jail, or been held there for days! It could have destroyed my reputation! What about my children?”

“Your reputation was already destroyed!” The Ghost pointed her light at an old but cozy home. The sign “Coruscant Street Orphanage” hung over the splintering porch. Children with horrified faces gathered around their matron, a tall, slender older woman, and watched as she tried to reason with Scrooge. His face, now more lined and careworn, was hard as granite. “Do you remember this? When you closed down this home for unfortunate children? Children who had no other place to go?”

“Of course, I do. I had to.” Scrooge made a face. “Lord Tarkin was offering a handsome sum to build his new offices there. I had to force them out. They weren't paying nearly enough for rent. She tried offering her own pitiful money as collateral, but it wasn't nearly enough.”

The Ghost drew her flame over the children...and Scrooge gasped, moving back as the light made them appear as miniature skeletons. “Every one of those children ended up in the street, Scrooge. Every one of them died. You could have made a difference to them. They could have found loving homes.” The blue eyes raged like a storm over the Atlantic Ocean. “But then again, you weren't good to your own children, either. Or their mother.”

He followed the flickering light back into his counting house. It was just a few weeks after he'd closed the orphanage. He sat behind his usual desk, going over his ledgers and counting his money...but he wasn't alone. Padme sat on the chair in front of his desk, her heavily swollen stomach evident under the pale green gown. She gazed at him under tear-streaked lashes.

“No, Padme!” He slammed the ledger. “I'm not giving you one cent for that charity of yours!”

“It's only a small thing, Anakin.” Padme rubbed her stomach. “Bail Organa is putting in most of the money, but all I need is the loan on the house for our headquarters.”

Her husband frowned. “Padme, you don't look well. Why don't you forget all this charity nonsense and go home? You have a little one in you. You should be resting.”

“Anakin, no!” She slammed the ledger shut, much like his daughter had earlier that night. “What's come over you? You're no longer the man I married. Ben and I have seen your noble ambitions fall off one by one, until there's nothing left but the pursuit of wealth.”

“Isn't that the way of the world?” Anakin only glared at her. “There's nothing it's so hard on than poverty.” He pointed his ruler at her. “I'm doing this for you, Padme. You and the children, when they come.”

“No, Anakin. I don't think you are.” She clutched her rounded belly. “You're doing this for gold, Anakin. For power. That's what you love. Tell me, if you were free, would you marry a woman whose charity is worth so little money?”

“Yes!” Anakin nearly shouted as his youthful form turned away from her, a deep frown etched on his face. “Yes, Padme! I love you, and I always will! You were the light of my life, my soul, and my happiness! I never wanted to lose you like this!”

“Then...I release you.” Padme handed him the birch wood pendent he'd carved for her over a decade before. “We'll live together, for the children's sake. But I no longer consider you to be the man I love.”

Ben Willkins chose that moment to enter, just as Anakin pocketed the carving. “Did you get the loan from that skinflint yet, Padme? I told you he wouldn't...”

“You!” Anakin nearly leaped off the chair. “You did this! This was your idea?” He pointed at his wife. “You were the one who turned her on me!”

“I did nothing of the kind.” Ben dropped his hands on his long apron. “You did it yourself, with all your trickery and deceit. I lost the best job I ever had because of you, Anakin. Barely got a loan on my book shop. And what about the orphanage?”

Padme turned to her husband with wide eyes. “What orphanage?”

“Tell her about the orphanage.” Ben stepped into his face. “Tell them how you cheated and stole those poor tykes' home. Tell them how you turned them out on the street!” 

Padme gasped, clutching her stomach. “Anakin, how could you? Would you do that to your own children?”

“I had to!” Anakin glared at Ben. “That house was an eyesore, and Tarkin wanted the whole block for his offices. He had more money.”

Ben did not back down. “You could have found them another place. Maybe in the country. Not turned them out on the street!”

“Please!” Padme grabbed her husband's hand, breathing hard. “Anakin, Ben, stop this!”

“Padme, stay out of this!” Anakin gave her such a shove, she toppled to the ground with a scream. Both men were by her side at once. Ben reached under her to make her comfortable...and his hand came up bloody.

“Anakin,” he gasped, “send for the doctor. We need to get her home, or to the nearest hospital. I think she's in labor.” 

The light wrapped around them again. When they emerged, they found themselves back in the apartment Anakin and Padme had once shared. A doughty midwife was leaned over Padme's end, holding a tiny baby. Ben clutched one of her hands, Anakin the other. Cedric plumped pillows, while Bail Organa brought the midwife her bag and Rudyard and Bail's wife Breha brought clean blankets and boiled water. 

“It's...yes...I can see it now...” The midwife held up a tiny, squalling infant with pale, fuzzy golden hair. “It's a boy! You have a boy, Mr. and Mrs. Scrooge! And a handsome little thing he is, too!”

“Wait!” Padme gasped, “there's something...another one...”

Cedric's normally yellowish face had turned the same shade of green as the plants on the windowsil. “She's losing so much blood! I'm no doctor, but I don't think that's normal.”

“She's losing too much blood.” Bail Organa handed her another sheet. She wrapped the boy in it and handed it gently to him before returning to Padme. “Mrs. Scrooge, I know you're feeling poorly, but please try to push out the other! Come on there, you can do it!”

Within a few minutes, the midwife was handing another wailing child to Ben. If nothing else, she was crying even louder than her brother. “It's a girl! Noisy little lass, she is!” 

Anakin's grin was faint. “We did it, Padme. We have a family.”

“Yes.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Anakin...I'm not going to...make it. Care for the...babies...care for them...give them my love...”

Bail brought her the boy. “Here's your lad, Padme. He's lovely. I can see Anakin's features in him already.”

“Luke...” Her fingers touched the downy golden fuzz on his head. “Light...Luke means light...he's our light...”

“And this little lady.” Ben leaned over with the girl. “She's got some pipes on her. Maybe she intends to start a career at Covent Garden.” 

Padme brushed her daughter's cheeks. “Leia. Meadow. Pretty as a flower...” 

“Not as beautiful as you.” He wrapped his arms around his wife. “Padme, don't leave me. Don't leave us. I need you! We all do!”

“I have to...” She ran her fingers through his hair. “Anakin...I love...take care...the babies...”

Even as she spoke, her fingers fell from his hair to the blanket. She no longer breathed; her heart ceased to beat. Her body settled into bed, her pale face as serene in death as it was in life. 

“She's gone.” The midwife put her hand on Anakin's shoulder. “I'm sorry, sir. She was a good'un.” 

Bail held out Luke to him. “You still have your children.”

Anakin sobbed and took Luke, but he held him gingerly, like he'd break at his touch. He pushed Leia away when Ben tried to hand her to him. “If she hadn't...if she hadn't had them,” he blubbered, “she'd be alive...why did she have to die?”

“Her heart wasn't strong.” Bail handed Leia to the midwife to be cleaned. “I told her she shouldn't be having children, but she did it for you.”

“Why didn't she listen? Why did I let her?” Anakin left Luke screaming on his lap. “NOOOOO!” His wails almost matched his sons. “Why did I let this happen?”

“Why did I?” The elder Anakin's tears matched his younger form. “I lost her, Ghost! I lost the most beautiful woman who ever lived, the most gracious and kindest creature to ever exist on this planet!”

“And yet,” the Ghost reminded him gently, “you ignore or mistreat the two living embodiments of her spirit, Luke and Leia. You let them be raised by the Organas in the winter and Cliegg's son Owen and his wife Bertha on their farm during the warmer months. They rarely saw any love from you, especially Leia.”

“Leia...she looks so much like her mother.” Anakin gazed at the young man weeping over his lost wife. “It was hard to see her grow up, to become the woman her mother might have been...”

The Ghost smiled a little. “Leia does have her looks. Her soul, however, is more like yours. She's ambitious and ruthless in her business dealings. It's Luke who has his mother and grandmother's kind and generous heart.”

“Spirit, please,” Anakin begged. “I can no longer bear these memories. Take me home.”

“Yes, Scrooge.” The light on the ghost seemed to flare brighter, and brighter. “But remember, you fashioned these memories yourself. That they are what they are, do not blame me.”

Scrooge suddenly had a great desire to see that light covered, to extinguish it from view. He grabbed a brass candle snuffer from the table near-by and threw it over her. The harder he pushed, brighter and wavier the light seemed to become...

Until his eyes flew open in his own bed. He was merely staring the ordinary candle on his own bedside table. “It was a nightmare,” he muttered. “I'm lucky I didn't start a fire, leaving the candle like that.” He grabbed the cap, snuffed it out, and turned over to try to get some sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The white-bearded Ghost of Christmas Present takes Scrooge on a journey through London on Christmas Day, from his son Luke's quiet family celebration to his daughter Leia's noisier one with friends and family.

Anakin had a hard time getting to sleep. His mind was still running at a mile a minute when the clock struck two o'clock. He turned over in bed, looking for a light and listening for chains. At this point, anything between a baby and a rhinoceros wouldn't surprise him much! 

So when the bell past and he heard and saw nothing, he was taken with a violent fit of trembling. After a moment, he finally heard a booming laugh coming from the next room. A soft light gleamed under the door. He pulled on his robe and slowly crept to his sitting room.

His sitting room had been transformed into a holiday wonderland. The ceilings were hung with fresh greenery and holly. Heaped on the floor around his chair, forming a kind of throne, was every kind of good thing to eat known to man. He stepped around turkey steaming on it's plate, potatoes piping hot, oranges so full and round, they looked as if they would roll away, blushing red apples and tiny tart grapes. 

Seated on the throne was the largest, strongest man Scrooge had ever seen. His white beard and crinkling eyebrows indicated old age, but his laughter was hearty and strong, and his broad shoulders under his green velvet robe would have made him first chosen for any cricket team. In his hands was a torch that looked rather like plenty's horn, and also dripped with greens.

“Come in!” He boomed, beckoning to the wide-eyed businessman in the doorway. “Come in, and know me better, man!”

Scrooge shuddered, despite the crackling fire in the fireplace. “I'm not so sure I wish to.”

The Spirit gave him a quick grin. “I'm surprised you don't know me. I am the Ghost of Christmas Present. Only three thousand of my brothers have come before me, every Christmas night.”

“Three thousand brothers?” Scrooge murmured. “Imagine the grocery bills?”

He leaped from his seat as nimbly as a child. “Have you ever noticed how wonderful everything is at Christmastime? So magical, and full of generosity and happiness?”

“Not especially.” The withered old miser went to the window. “Christmas has not been my favorite season for a long time.”

“Perhaps it's time we changed that.” The Spirit went to the door, rather than the window. “I'm not much for flying. Touch my robe, and we'll travel to the holiday in a far less chaotic manner.”

Scrooge did as he was bade. Suddenly, everything – pies, turkey, throne, room, greenery, fireplace – vanished. In a second, he found himself standing on the street outside his counting house on Christmas morning. Children rushed past him, gleefully throwing snowballs and sliding on patches of ice. Adults hurried by the markets, wondering at the mossy filberts, hot roasted chestnuts, and sweet, tart plums wrapped all in tin foil. 

Two men, a handsome negro in a fine suit and a shorter man with thick black hair, jostled each other. They were about to fight, but the Ghost sprinkled them with a little water from his torch. Instantly, the duo smiled, and said that it was silly to quarrel on such a splendid Christmas day.

Anakin gazed at the torch curiously. “What kind of water is that?” 

“It's my own blend.” The ghost sprinkled it on two customers who fought over a bag of nuts. The moment the water hit them, they decided to split the nuts instead. “It encourages kindness and generosity, to a poor family most of all.”

“Why to a poor family the most?”

The Ghost chuckled. “Because it needs it the most.” He tugged on his arm. “Come along. There's a place I want you to see.”

Scrooge frowned as they reappeared on a dilapidated street in one of the poorest parts of London. The home he saw was clean and well-kept, but obviously old and shabby. “Why did you bring me to this broken-down hovel?”

“I don't think,” the Ghost snorted, “that your employee or your daughter-in-law would appreciate you referring to their home as a hovel.”

Indeed, Mara Scrooge came into the main room, her beautiful face flushed as red as her gingery hair and her emerald eyes gleaming, carrying a steaming goose surrounded by sage and onions. She was followed by a young lass with hair as red and curling as her own and a negro boy, both of them tugging at her dress and begging her to find out when the plum pudding would be ready. An older boy with wavy reddish-gold hair and his father's wide blue eyes kept an eye on the potatoes roasting over the fire. 

“Do be careful with the potatoes, Anakin,” Mara scolded the lad. “Try to keep your shirt collar out of the cooking water. That's your father's second-best one.”

“Yes, Mother!” Anakin was a bit taken aback to hear his own name applied to someone else. He rarely paid much attention when Luke mentioned his family, other than his wife. Mara disapproved of the way he treated her husband. He'd never met their children, or even bothered learning their names. 

“Here you go.” Mara handed the two little ones tin cups and slightly cracked china plates. “Arashell and Oniho, you set the table.” She placed the turkey in the center as the children nearly danced around her, placing each cup and plate at their appointed place. “I wish I knew where your father and Temiri had gotten to. And Rey wasn't this late last Christmas Eve by half a hour!”

A pretty young girl, scarcely more than thirteen, dashed past them and into the door. She had three buns on the back of her head, and a sweet face that was liberally sprinkled with freckles. “Mama Mara!” The children crowded around her as she threw her arms around her adopted parent. “Here I am! I'm sorry I couldn't get away faster. Old Unkar Plutt can be a real slave driver, especially around the holidays. I had to clean up the junk shop before I could leave.”

Mara gave her a tremendous hug. “I'm just glad you're here now, my ray of sunshine. I have never once regretted my husband taking you and Oniho off the streets.” She patted the little Negro boy on the head. “You're both as good of children as one could wish.”

Arashell had been looking out the window. “Ooh, here comes Father and Temiri!” She giggled. “Hide, Rey! It'll be a great surprise for them!”

They whisked Rey into a closet, just in time for Luke to arrive with a little black-haired lad on his shoulders. The boy carried a crutch that looked as if his father had carved it from an old broom handle. “Hullo, everyone!” His daughter and wife rushed to him. He gave Mara a kiss on the cheek. “Where's my Rey?”

Mara shrugged. “Oh, she's not coming this year. Too busy, she said.”

“Too busy!” Luke burst out. “Is that old skinflint Plutt keeping her late again? I have half a mind to go and tell him off myself!”

“Oh Papa Luke!” Rey almost leaped from the closet. She hated to see her adopted father so upset. “Here I am! You know I'd never miss Christmas with the family!” She smothered him and her brother with kisses. “And Temiri. How was your stroll in town, little brother?”

“It was so much fun, Rey!” Temiri gave them a wide grin as Rey and Luke settled him on a small stool in a corner. “We went to church, Rey, and we went past the shops. We looked in the windows, and I saw toy soldiers that you could wind up and let march, and a blackberry dressing that almost gleamed, it looked so juicy!”

Scrooge strained to listen as Mara pulled Luke into a corner. “How was he at church?”

“As good as gold and better, Mara.” Luke watched his youngest child with a sad smile. “He says the strangest things sometimes. He told me he was glad that people saw him, a cripple, at church. They would remember who made lame beggars walk and blind men see.”

“Tell me,” Anakin murmured, “what is wrong with that kind lad?” His eyes never left his youngest grandson. Rey handed him an old toy soldier she'd probably salvaged from the junk shop and repaired herself. He and his siblings gasped with delight as she made it march across the floor. 

“Much, I'm afraid.” The Ghost shook his head. “If these shadows remain unaltered, none of my brethren will see him here again.” 

“Oh no.” Anakin blinked back tears. “That must not happen. How could we endure it?”

Luke continued, pulling something out of his pocket. “I don't know if I should give this to Father. Temiri wants me to. I supplied the chain, but Temiri made it. He's a rather good whittler. I wish I could afford a good knife for him. Rey's been teaching him and the other children some mechanics, but he's better at carving.”

Anakin's eyes widened as he looked over Mara's shoulder. Her long fingers held a carved pendant on a slightly tarnished metal chain. The twin suns were intricately carved, looking for all like they should have been beaming down on the family. “They're beautiful, Luke. Did Temiri do this all by himself?”

“We split the job.” Luke smiled proudly. “I did one sun, and he did the other. Isn't he clever, the way he can make them look so real?”

Mara wrapped her fingers around them. “I can almost feel their warmth.” Her beaming smile fell. “They're too good for that bastard of a father of yours. He'll never accept this, Luke. You know he won't. He refuses to take an interest his grandchildren, ever since we turned down Sheev Marley's money.”

Scrooge grumbled behind her shoulder. “You always were a stubborn woman. You should have taken it before it was eaten up by taxes.”

Her husband gave her his gentle smile. “I'll never give up on Father, Mara. Uncle Ben has told me what he was like when he was younger. There's still good in him. I can feel it, somehow. I keep hoping he'll come around. That's why I stay with him. Even after everything that's happened, I love him.”

“You're a more generous person than I am, Luke Scrooge.” Mara gave him a kiss. “That's why I love you so! You have the kindest heart of anyone in London Town.”

Scrooge followed them as they joined the children at the table. Young Anakin mashed the potatoes with vigor. Miss Arashell sweetened the applesauce, and had to be kept from taking a taste by her older sister. 

The children oohed and ahhed as Luke carved the goose. They carried on as if it were a feathered miracle, and indeed, it rather was in that household. The two little boys were happily steeped in sage and onions to the eyeballs! No one dared say it was a very small goose for a very large family, or that there weren't quite enough potatoes to go around. No one would have dreamed of pointing it out. 

As soon as they had nearly finished their meal, Luke lifted his cup in a toast. “I give you a salute to your grandfather, children. To my father, Anakin's namesake, the founder of the feast!”

“The founder of the feast indeed!” Mara snapped. “I wish I had him here right now! I'd give him something to feast upon!”

“But my dear,” Luke said mildly, “think of the children and the day!”

Rey made a face. “I agree, Papa Luke! I've only seen him when I've passed through town, and the little ones have never met him at all. I heard he's a right ogre.”

“Rey, please.” Luke waved his hand. “He's your grandfather, if only adopted. I still say there's good in him.”

“Father's right.” Temiri nodded, lifting his own cup. “I think he just needs someone to love him, like we have. To Grandfather Anakin!”

Luke smiled and gently lay his hand on his son's shoulder. “God bless us!”

The boy smiled back, his smile looking very much like his father's. “God bless us every one!”

As the Ghost sprinkled his water onto the family, they began to fade away. Anakin wished they could stay. They were neither a handsome nor a well-off family, but they were warm and happy with each other and their situation. He particularly kept his eyes on Temiri until the last.

They reappeared back on the street, in front of a small tavern. “I know this place.” Anakin noted the sign on the door. “Cloud City Tavern. I take meals here sometimes. The owner owes me money, that slick con-man of a Negro.”

Said slick con-man walked out the door at that point, dressed in a fine blue suit with a tailored cape. A younger man, bigger and more muscular, trailed after him. “Come on, Finn,” the man said, straightening his tie. “We don't want to be late for the party. Leia told me all the people from her charity will be there, including the ladies.”

“I'm not interested in just any lady, Uncle Lando.” Finn's dusky cheeks were flaming, despite the cold night. “Rose told me she and her sister will be there.”

“Ahh, Rose.” Lando nudged his nephew. “Is that the little round Asian creature you ogle every time she comes in the tavern with her father?”

Finn's cheeks turned even redder. “Uh, well, yes. She's an awful nice girl, Uncle. She knows everything about horses. She and her parents own the livery stable a few blocks down, you know.”

Lando frowned. “Don't know how long any of us will own these buildings. That old tightwad Scrooge has us by the tail. I'm just barely breaking even nowadays.”

“Isn't there anything we can do, Uncle?” Finn frowned deeply. “I like working here. I don't want to go back to working for the First Order Savings and Loan. I felt more like a slave there.”

“We'll think of something. I need to talk to Han.” He took a package under his arm. Finn had several more in his. He grinned as he patted his nephew on the back. “Come on, boy. The party of the year waits for no man.” 

Another familiar face stepped out of the book shop next door...and this one made Anakin pause. It was Ben. Oh, he was older, his hair and beard now silvery white rather than chestnut. He still had those snappy blue eyes, though, and that gentle smile. 

“Hello there, Mr. Calarissian.” Ben held a pile of books under one arm. “How are you? I haven't see you for a while. Or you, young Mr. Finnegan,” he added to Finn.

“Do you need help?” Lando eyed his wobbly pile. “That's quite a few books you have there.”

“There's no better Christmas gift than a good book, I always say.” He handed a book to Lando, and one to Finn. “Merry Christmas, gentlemen.”

“Thank you, Mr. Willkins.” Lando handed him a small package. “This is from Finn and me, neighbor to neighbor.” 

Ben nodded. “That's very kind of you. I'm on my way to a party at the home of my friends Leia and Han Solo.”

“Hey,” Finn exclaimed, “that's where we're going!”

“Would you like to walk with us?” Lando nodded at the street. “It's getting late. We can keep each other company.”

“That's very kind of you.” Ben got on his other side. “I think I'll take you up on that offer.” He frowned as they made their way down the street. “I couldn't help overhearing you gentlemen discuss your rent and Mr. Scrooge. I'm lucky that the Alliance Bank holds the mortgage on my shop, but I know many people in this area aren't so fortunate. The Ticos down the street are desperately worried that they'll lose their stable.”

“That old Vietnmese horse doctor hasn't paid in weeks,” Scrooge muttered behind Ben's back. “He'll be lucky if I don't turn him and those noisy girls of his out on the street!”

Finn frowned. “There has to be some way we can get that guy to lower the rents, or give us more time. Why is he such a miser, anyway?”

Ben sighed. “He was hurt badly when his wife died, and then Marley got to him. Sheev Marley never had an altruistic bone in his body. The way he treats Luke and Leia, I'm not sure if there is a way to change him. He may be too far gone.”

“I hope not, Mr. Willikins.” Finn juggled his packages, nearly losing one. “I like working for my uncle. I don't want to think of what will happen if we shut down. The last thing I want to do is go back to working for Snoke. He was worse than Scrooge! I may be good at numbers, but I don't like people yelling at me over my shoulder.”

“We'll find a way.” Lando said firmly. “Talk to the old geezer, or see if I can borrow money from Han.”

Ben sighed. “I may be able to loan you some money, but I don't think Anakin will listen to you. He won't listen to anybody.”

Anakin felt a lump in his throat as the trio hurried across the street. “Ben,” he grumbled, “you're the one who won't listen. You were there when Padme died. You saw how it happened. If she hadn't had children, we'd still have her!”

“Perhaps.” The Ghost stood behind him, looking every inch the storybook giant in the whirling snow. “But perhaps not. Her heart wasn't strong. She may not have lived, anyway. And your children have grown up to be kind and generous individuals in their own right.”

“Where are they going?” Anakin frowned as they stopped by a decrepit building on a dark side street. “Why would they be coming here? This is just one of the work houses. It's certainly no place for gentlemen like them.”

The Ghost nodded at the scene before them. “Your daughter is here.”

Leia was surrounded by young urchins in ragged clothes. She handed them warm clothes, cloaks and hats and shoes, and boxes with candies and nuts. A handsome young man stood with her, flirting with the girls and making the boys laugh with his ribald jokes. He had curly black hair, snappy brown eyes, and warmly tanned skin. Like his daughter, he was small, but only in stature. His voice boomed through the increasing snows. An older man behind him who handed coats and boxes of tinned delicacies and small hams to adults was very nearly his twin, with the same bright cocoa eyes and wide smile. 

“Poe!” Finn ran right to the younger man. “Merry Christmas!”

Poe hurried into his friend's arms. A small orange and white dog followed on his heels. “Finn! Feliz Navidad!” 

“I'm so glad I'm able to join all of you.” Finn laughed as the pup nudged his heels. “Don't worry, Bee Bee. I'd never forget you. Merry Christmas to you, little mate!” Bee Bee's bark almost sounded like it was wishing him the best of the season in response.

“Merry Christmas, Leia.” Ben handed her one of the stacks of books. “This is for your charity. I think the gift of reading is the best one anyone can have.”

“Thank you, Ben!' She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Merry Christmas to you, too! You can hand them out now.”

Lando opened one of his boxes. “We brought leftover food from the Tavern. We were closed today and we'll be opening later tomorrow, so we have plenty to spare.”

“Lando, that's so kind of you.” His daughter was still red-cheeked, but this time, Scrooge suspected it was from sheer happiness rather than the bitter weather. “There's so many people in need at this time of year!” She turned to the older Hispanic man. “Kes, I couldn't do all this without you and Poe. You're both such huge helps, going around for donations and helping me with the boxes.”

The swarthy man gave Leia a kiss on her brow. “I'm honored to help you, Leia. Shara loved working for you, and Poe enjoys it, too. It's a way of keeping her alive in our hearts.” 

Three more people joined them, all with empty boxes under their arms. “Caleb!” Scrooge's eyes widened at the tallest. Caleb Dumas, the youngest worker at Yoda's counting house, was a young man now, with long brown hair pulled behind his head and a thin beard, but he'd recognize that boy anywhere. “It's Caleb! He's all grown up now. I lost track of all the apprentices after we bought out Yoda's. I always wondered what happened to him.”

“Kanan.” Leia took the boxes. “How did it go?”

The younger boy with the blue-black hair spoke out of turn. “You were right, Leia. That work house was horrible! So many of the kids were so thin and weak, and I think I saw bruises on a lot of their arms and legs. I'm so glad I don't have to worry about ending up in one of those places anymore.”

“Hera went ahead to the party with Zeb and Charles.” Caleb – Kanan now – put a hand around the two young people. “I'm taking them along. We finished with the boxes.”

Leia nodded. “I think we're done here. Besides, my husband and son are going to start wondering where we are.”

The entire entourage moved on to the modest row house that the Solos owned just a few streets down. The most towering, hairiest man Scrooge had ever seen let the winded charity-givers in. Cedric, as tall and yellow as ever, took their coats. The host greeted his guests the moment they arrived and passionately embraced his beloved wife. Han Solo was a tall man with a small, sassy grin just over a scar on his long chin. His flyway hair and simple blue jacket and vest gave him the look of the dashing pirate he had once been. 

“Oh sheep-herder, the house looks lovely.” Leia took his arm, admiring the ropes of holly and ivy in the windows and the small feather tree festooned with candles and cookies. “You and Charles did a wonderful job.” 

“Yeah. Charlie and Cedric and me worked all day on it.” Han's little smile fell. “I just wish Ben could have helped. He didn't show up until just about a half-hour ago. Something about staying late at work.”

“On Christmas Eve?” His wife sighed. “I'll see if I can talk to him later tonight, after the party. I wish we saw more of that boy. He spends too much time at work.”

His grandson was skulking in a corner, talking to a slender young man with bright red hair and permanently sour expression. “Mother,” Ben complained, “why are we spending all this money again? We should be saving it for Father's business.”

“Oh Ben, it's only once a year.” Ben turned as red as his friend's locks when his mother kissed his cheek. “We have the money to spare. Besides, it's wonderful to see old friends. We don't always have the chance to get together like this.”

“Come on, kid.” Han threw an arm around his son's broad shoulder. “Let's go greet the rest of the guests.”

Scrooge, much to his surprise, found himself enjoying the high spirits. They danced as Han played the battered piano and Leia sang along. She had a rather good voice, an attractive deep contralto that soared on an old folk song that had been familiar to his dear Padme and her good friend Bail. Finn and Poe swirled around with the Tico sisters, while Hux danced with a young blond woman in a silver gown whose head very nearly grazed the ceiling. Charles' deep growl could be heard over the din as he stomped along. Cedric fussed over spilled wine and tried to keep Bee Bee from snitching sugar cookies under the table.

They played parlor games next. Poe insisted that Finn go first at Blind Man's Bluff. Scrooge suspected that Finn had peeked through the blindfold his excited friend tied around his eyes. He kept chasing after Rose, the pretty little Tico girl in the green dress with the lace tucker. She squealed and giggled, but didn't exactly avoid his advances. Bee Bee danced around everyone or ran under legs, trying to beg for food.

“Why don't you play, Ben?” Poe nudged him. “Come on! Have some fun!”

“I agree.” Scrooge would have been nudging the boy if he could be seen. “You're only young once, lad.”

The Ghost raised an eyebrow. “Weren't you the one telling him earlier to keep his nose to the grindstone and his focus on his work?”

“I...” Scrooge sighed. “I didn't mean all the time! One party when the office is closed anyway won't hurt the boy.”

Hux made a face over his glass of red wine. “Those games are so childish.”

“They're not so bad.” Ben shrugged. “I'm just not the mood for them, I guess.”

“Aw, come on, son! Live a little!” Han put his arms around him. “We're going to do something quieter. It's one of your favorite games, 'Yes and No.'”

Ben gave him a small smile that was almost identical to his father's little smirk. “I like that one. You never know what people will come up with.”

“I have the first one.” Leia lead everyone back to the parlor. Finn threw one arm around Rose, who leaned into him, and the other around Poe. Poe's little orange pup jumped into his lap. “It's too perfect!”

The Ghost's eyes were diverted to the grandfather clock in Leia and Han's hall. “Scrooge, I think it's time we left.”

“No, Spirit!” Scrooge tugged on his sleeve, sounding more like an eager child. “Let's stay just a few minutes more. This looks like it'll be fun!”

Leia walked among the guests, asking them what she was thinking of. It was an animal that lived in the city, a most disagreeable and unwanted creature, but didn't pull a hansom cab or hunt for mice in a cellar. It wasn't a rat, a donkey, a dog, a chicken, or a goose. With every question, Scrooge became more and more excited, darting among the guests and asking questions himself, completely forgetting that no one can see him.

Han finally grinned from his stool in a corner. “I think I know what it is, dear. Who else is an unwanted creature that skulks the city and makes everyone hate him? It's Anakin Scrooge, my beloved father-in-law.”

Most of the guests burst into laughter. Leia threw her arms around her husband. “I could never keep things from you, sheep-herder.”

“I don't think that was very nice, Mother,” her son grumbled. “Grandfather is an important man. He's one of the richest financiers in London. I want to be just like him.”

“I don't know why.” Kanan shuddered as he put his own arm around a beautiful woman with long, thick black braids wound with green ribbons. “I knew him when I was just a lad myself. He was a good man then, but something...changed him. He shut down Yoda's counting house, did anyone every tell you that? Best job I ever had. Wish old Yoda hadn't retired to Dagobah in Scotland. He was one of the good ones.”

“I miss Yoda, too.” Ben sighed. “I know you think that Anakin can do no wrong, Young Benjamin, but mark my words. He'll come to a bad end someday.”

Young Benjamin stuck his proud nose in the air. His friend Hux sniffed. “Men like him don't come to bad ends. 

“I tried to get him to come.” Leia snuggled into her husband. “I know you wanted him to come, but he wouldn't listen. He's probably at his counting house, writing another round of evictions.”

Han kissed her forehead. “It's too bad. He's missing a very fine dinner. Charles and Miss Holdo worked hard on it.” He put his arm around her. “Wish I could talk to him. You and I never did anything to him. Young Ben never did anything to him. I actually admire his stance on the rights of natives and Africans in England.”

She snuggled into his arms as Poe took the next round of 'Yes and No.' “Let's not think of that now, Sheep-herder. Let's just be together.” The look on her face was one of contentment. “Merry Christmas, Han.”

Scrooge's heart melted as his son-in-law kissed the top of his daughter's head. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

The Ghost sprinkled them with his water. “My time is growing short, Scrooge.” He tugged on the sleeve of his robe. “We must press on.”

“But...” Scrooge could no sooner stop them from leaving as he could stop time from performing its merry dance. Han, Leia, the food, the holly and ivy, and the guests melted into nothingness. 

When he looked around, he found that they were back in his room. Something wasn't quite...right. Everything was dark. Not a light shown in the windows, nor lamp on the street. It was as if the entire world had been engulfed by a smothering, frightening darkness.

The Spirit settled down on the chair. He seemed even older than he had before. There was more gray in his beard and lines on his cheeks, and he moved slowly and with more care. “Spirit, do you grow old?”

“Yes,” he managed to croak. “My time on this Earth is very brief. It'll end on the stroke of three.”

Scrooge grabbed at the Spirit's robe as the clock in his room chimed the hour. “Spirit, please! Don't leave me!” His eyes widened as a tiny claw poked out from under the robe. “Is that...is that a hand you have there?” 

The Ghost nodded and flung open his robes, revealing two ragged and shriveled children who were barely skin and bones. “Spirit,” Scrooge gasped, “are they yours?”

“They are man's,” the Spirit boomed. “And they cling to me, appealing to their fathers. The boy is Ignorance. The girl is Want. Beware of both, but especially the boy. He brings doom to all!”

“Have they no refuge,” Scrooge cried, “no place to go for aid?”

Once again, Scrooge was met with his own words. “Are there no prisons?” The Spirit growled. “Are there no work houses?”

Scrooge fell back into his chair, now bare of food and decorations, as the clock struck three. The Ghost and the terrifying children vanished as if they had never been there. Scrooge finally curled up in his chair, dropping off into a dreamless and haunted sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scrooge follows the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come into his future...and it's not a pretty sight.

His room was cold. It had never been so cold. He thought he left a window open. When he awoke to shut it, he was met with a dark phantom that leaned over him in his chair. All he could see was a black cape, a bit of golden lining, and one long, bony gray hand that tugged at his shoulder.

Scrooge was so terrified, he could barely speak. “Are you the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come?”

The Ghost merely nodded and pointed toward his room. “You're going to show me the shadows of things that may be.” 

From what little Scrooge could see in the darkness, his future rooms were bare of even what little ornamentation he owned. Everything had been stripped clean, right to the rugs on the floor. He followed the specter as it glided into his bedroom. 

Scrooge hung back as the bony hand pointed towards the lump under his cheap old sheets. “Where are all my things, my blankets and bed curtains? Who...who is under that sheet?” He pulled back. “I'd look, Spirit, but I'm...I'm afraid. I'm not sure I want to know what's there.” He drew back to the window. “Can't we go out into the world and see my future, like the other ghosts? I must know if Tiny Tim will live, and if my grandson will prosper in his new career.”

The robe gestured. Scrooge shuddered as it ran the musty black fabric over his arm. “Touch your robe? That seems to be the way you Spirits operate. At least you don't fly. I'm not sure I could do that again after the first one.”

The moment he touched his robe, once again, his room, the sheet, and the figure under it all vanished.  
When they emerged, they found themselves just outside the First Order Savings and Loan, standing on the streets in the bitter cold. Three men, one of them quite young, wearing a sober gray coat and suit, chatted amongst themselves. When Scrooge joined their circle, he was surprised to discover that the taller youth was Ben's friend Armitage Hux, who carried a box under one arm.

“I don't know much more about it,” Hux said with his clipped accent, “I only know that he's dead.”

A smaller young man with shiny black hair and a twitchy nose sniffed. “When did he die?”

Hux shrugged. “Just last week.”

“Why? What was the matter with him?” The third man, who was much older, wore a far more lavish red and black cloak and had short gold hair combed under his top hat. “I thought he'd never die.” 

“Who knows?” said Hux with a yawn.

The smaller youth's nose twitched again, making him look rather like a mouse. “What has he done with his money?”

“Probably left it to his company.” Hux made a face. “He hasn't left it to me, I know that much.”

This was received with a hearty laugh. “It's likely to be a very cheap funeral,” said the older man. “By my word, I don't know a soul who'll go to it.”

“I may go, if a lunch is provided,” said the black-haired mouse, “but I must be fed if I do.”

“Perhaps I'll go.” Hux shifted the box under his arm. “His grandson is something of a friend of mine, and my father used to do business with him, years ago. At any rate, I'll see you gentlemen around. I need to talk to Kylo Ren.”

The mousy youth shuddered. “I don't envy you that. Even I think he's ruthless!”

“Oh, I can handle him, Mitaka.” Hux started up the steps. “I'll see you later.”

Scrooge frowned and turned to the Ghost. “I know those gentlemen. The elder is Moden Canady, and the little one is Dopheld Mititaka. They both work for the First Order Savings and Loan.” He looked around. “And where am I? I'm always here at this hour, doing business with the First Order people.”

The Ghost merely pointed in the First Order bank. He followed Hux into the cold and cheerless granite main office. The chairs and desks were made of stiff, dark polished wood, the fixtures of cheap brass. A brass nameplate that stated “K. Ren” gleamed on the largest desk.

“What are we doing here?” Scrooge demanded. “Who is this 'K. Ren?' He means nothing to me.”

To Anakin's surprise, Ben Solo settled down behind the desk. He was dressed in all black, from black wool jacket to the tips of his shiny boots. His right brow was now bisected by a long scar, and his brown eyes were icy. 

Hux and Phasma, in her stiff silvery gray suit, came up to him, followed by a dark-haired woman in a wool suit the color of the sky on a sleety day. The trio carried boxes filled to the brim with fabrics and knick-knacks. “Did you get them?” Ben asked in a voice that was low and menacing.

“Of course, we did.” Hux dropped his box on Ben's desk. “There wasn't much left after the Andors and the locals raided his rooms.”

The taller blonde woman pulled out a few things. “Here's his silver spoons,” she started in an oddly deep voice for a lass. “A pair of silver tongs, gold cufflinks, and a few shirts with fine pearl buttons.”

Ren rang up her purchases. “Good work, Phasma. I think we could get quite a bit of money for those buttons, and the cufflinks. What about you, Hux?”

“Didn't find as much, but I brought a few things.” Hux pulled sheets and blankets out of his box. “I got most of his linens. Very fine damask.”

His grandson ran his fingers over the blankets. “If I know him, this is very cheap damask. I could always give them to those useless cousins of mine.”

The other woman pushed forward, tossing her box on top of Hux's. “I got his bed curtains!”

“Umaro, you don't mean you took them down, rings and all?” Ren's long fingers tugged at the brass circles on the ends, then ran over a family cotton dressing gown. It looked a little too much like the one Scrooge himself wore. “You actually stole his night clothes?”

“Why not?” Umaro sniffed. “They would have buried him in them. If linen isn't good enough for that job, I don't know what is. I wouldn't want to waste fine clothes on the likes of him!”

Hux frowned. “He didn't die of anything catching, did he, Ren?”

“Do you think I would have stuck around if he had?” The black-haired girl wrinkled her nose. “I know how you admired him and Snoke, but frankly, they were both bastards.”

Ren kept scratching at his ledger. “I always give too much to the ladies.” He handed bills to the trio. “There's your money, to the penny. You'll get no more, and I can lay you that.”

Phasma put out a deep bark of a laugh. “The old skinflint was a right useful chap. He frightened everyone away when he was alive, only to profit us when he was dead!”

The laughter ended as Rey, Luke's daughter, hurried in. She was a few years older now, perhaps a bit more careworn. She tugged a knitted shawl around her thin shoulders. “Ben!” The girl called out. “I have to talk to you...”

Ben wrinkled his nose. “My name is Kylo Ren. I'm not Ben Solo anymore. Why are you here? I thought you'd be out celebrating with the rest of them.”

“I can't believe you'd do this!” Rey's glare was almost as menacing as her Aunt Leia's. “How could you buy the Scrooge and Marley counting house out from under my father? What happened to family?”

Ben just went on writing as the others smirked. “It was losing money. Uncle Luke's good with number, but he's not ruthless enough for the job.” 

She grabbed the pen out of his hand. “I don't care what the rest of these filthy pickpockets say. Your name is Ben Solo, and you're a right ass! You sold my father's life work and put such a high rent on your mother's headquarters, you drove her out of business!”

Hux crossed his arms. “What do you want, Miss Scrooge?”

She put her hands on Ben's desk. “For you to come home to your mother. She's worried sick about you, especially since your father and my brother died.” 

“I'll visit her when I can.” He pulled the boxes away. “If this is about Grandfather...”

“No, it isn't.” Rey pushed the rest of the boxes aside, her hazel eyes blazing with fury. “I don't know why I bothered with you. Or any of you. You only care about yourselves.”

“You know, Rey,” Hux started, “you ought to try to get a job here. We could use a smart chit like you. You have brains, girl.”

His grandson nodded. “I could teach you the ways of our institution.”

She slapped his hand away. “I'd rather be taught by a cartoon puffin than the likes of you!”

Phasma's bark rang out once more. “Maybe we could find you a puffin somewhere, lass. You might learn to curb that temper of yours.”

“Stuff it in your ear.” She glared at Ben. “I don't know why I bothered. You're nothing but a monster. I hope you're happy with the life you've chosen...Kylo Ren.” 

Scrooge frowned, waving his hands at his grandson. “She's your cousin! Why don't you go out and talk to her?” The Phantom tugged at his robe, but Scrooge pulled away. “Ben, why would you push her away? Why did you push your parents away? They love you!” He finally turned to the Ghost. “Oh Spirit, let me see some tenderness connected with a death, or that terrible scene will haunt me forever!”

The Ghost finally pulled Scrooge along, out the door with Rey. A touch of the Ghost's robe, and they found themselves in Lando's Tavern, right next to the ancient, scarred bar with the rows of porcelain mugs hanging over it. Leia sat on a soft chair by the fire in the main room. She too was older, her hair showing far more gray under the blue velvet bonnet. “I'm sorry about Han, Leia.” Lando's hand was on her shoulder. “You can work out of here until you get back on your feet. I've got that room in the back we never use.”

“His own son killed him!” Finn's voice snapped from the kitchen. “Han wouldn't have died if Ben hadn't closed his business and put you out of your headquarters! His heart couldn't handle the shock. He's a murderer!”

Leia didn't seem to hear them. “Lando, how did I lose Ben? Han and I tried so hard with that boy. He's determined to follow in his grandfather's footsteps. Why didn't I ever tell him what Anakin was really like?”

“You did what you had to.” Lando gave her a small smile. “If it's any consolation, our mortgage got transferred to the Takodana Bank. Old Maz Fezziwig may be a pirate in disguise, but she's got the same good heart as her late husband Yoda. I should be able to reason with her. Besides, she eats here all the time. We can sleep with light hearts tonight!”

Poe looked up from wiping a table. “And we'll find another place, Leia. I swear we will. Maybe we could talk to Maz.” Leia didn't respond. Her eyes were fixed on the fire, and times that were happier and far-away.

“Don't give up!” Anakin hated to see his lovely daughter so lost. “Please, don't give up! Your work is too good to give up on. People need you. They need your kind heart. Your son needs you.” The Ghost finally pulled him away as Lando and Leia continued to stare into the crackling orange flames. 

As soon as he took the Ghost's robe, they were whisked away to the Cratchits' home. This time, however, all was quiet. Mara sewed by the fire. Arashell and Oniho did a puzzle on the floor. Young Anakin read a passage from the Bible. Scrooge noticed a tear fall down Mara's cheek.

“Mother?” Anakin looked up from his reading, concerned. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I'm fine.” She gave her son a weak smile. “It's this dim lamplight that hurts my eyes and makes them water.” Scrooge doubted it was the lamplight. He'd noticed the moment they entered that the familiar little stool and crutch in the corner near the fireplace were empty. Ahh, poor Temiri!

“Rey and Father are a bit late tonight,” Anakin noted as he put his book aside.

Arashell nodded. “Papa's been a lot slower these past few weeks, since...” She gulped, trying to hold back her own tears. 

Her brother nodded. “I've known him to walk very fast with Temiri on his shoulder.” All around the room, the rest of his family agreed. Luke had twice his normal speed when he went out with his dear, lost little son.

“But he was so light to carry,” Mara explained. “He was really no trouble at all. And here's your father and sister at the door!”

All of the children stood and hurried over to Luke and Rey when they came in. “Hello there, little ones.” Luke hugged them all, then put his arms around Mara. “My dear, before we went to talk to Leia, we went to the graveyard. It's right by the river. It would do you good to see how green the place is. Temi...”

Mara finished softly. “Temiri used to love looking at the ducks on the river.”

“He was just a little boy.” Luke couldn't help the sob that escaped from his lips. “My little boy...he was never any trouble! Oh Mara, I loved him so!”

Rey put her arms around her father's other side as she and Mara gave him a gentle hug. “I miss him too, Papa Luke. He loved everything and everyone.” She nudged his shoulder. “But don't you have some news to give Anakin?”

The despondent clerk nodded, dabbing at his eyes with a worn handkerchief. “That's right. I just came from talking to Aunt Leia. After Uncle Han's death, she says she could use a little more help at the charity, especially now that they're working out of the tavern. She offered Anakin his first job as her assistant.”

Rey gave her brother a hug. “You're going to be a man of business, Ani! Poe and Finn and I are more often distributing the boxes and fighting for reform at the workhouses. You'll be helping Aunt Leia with her paperwork and financial books.”

Anakin nodded. “It would be an honor. I'm good with sums, and I like Aunt Leia. She tells the best stories.”

“Imagine!” Arashell giggled. “Our Ani will be a man of business!”

Ohino grabbed Anakin's hand. “Does that mean you're going to leave us?”

Luke shooed his family to the table. “He may have to, but it's a part of life.” He took Oniho's hand as he sat down. “Everyone has to leave sooner or later.”

Arashell's little voice trembled. “Like Temiri did?” 

She scrambled into the other side of Luke's lap with her brother. “Yes. But we will never forget our Temiri, how gentle and kind he was, and how brave, in the last days of his illness. His spirit will always be with us...and we will always be with each other, if only in our hearts. I'm very happy, my children, very happy!”

The two little ones leaned into him for hugs and kisses. Rey threw her arms around him and kisses his whiskery cheek. Anakin did the same to his mother, who laughed at his quick kiss on her soft cheek.

After they left them, they found themselves back at the street near his counting house. He briefly peeked in the window, but there was a different person sitting behind a desk in a room that looked not at all like his office. He wasn't on the street, discussing his usual affairs with other financiers, nor at his clients' homes. Most of his clients, from the most miserable hovel to the largest grocery, seemed grateful that they were no longer beholden to a man they described as a terrible creature. 

“Spirit,” Scrooge whispered as they entered a through a rusty iron gate and into a misty graveyard, “I know we're coming close to the time of parting. I've been wondering what has become of my future self. I've seen my things, but not me.”

The Spirit's bony fingers indicted a small headstone on the edge of the graveyard. It was an old place, choked with vegetation and forgotten by time. Scrooge tripped over more than his share of roots as he made his way to the headstone that the Ghost pointed at.

“Before I go any closer,” Scrooge cried out, “may I ask you, are these the shadows of the things that will be? Or the shadows of things that may be only? A life can be made right. A man can change his own course, if he does it in time!” 

The Ghost only continued to point at the gravestone. Scrooge finally dropped to his knees on the mossy ground before it. He broke away a few vines, to discover his own name – ANAKIN SCROOGE. 

“Oh no!” He almost leaped away, as if he were stung. “Was I the man Ben and his friends profited off of? Was I the one whose death made everyone so happy?”

That was when the Ghost's hood seemed to fall away...to reveal old Snoke, his sunken face more like a death's head than the rich banker he was in life. “Of course, Scrooge. You're the richest man in the cemetary, didn't you know?”

“No!” He grabbed at the gold-lined robe. “Hear me out, Snoke! I'm not the man I was! I will live my life in the past, present, and the future! Why would all of you show me these visions if I was past all hope? Please tell me I can sponge away the writing on this stone!”

The Ghost only cackled in his face. “This is it, Scrooge. These are your choices. Like the Ghost of Christmas Past said, that they are what they are, do not blame me.”

“But I'll change!” He snatched desperately at the Ghost's robe. “I'll change, I swear it! I'll change!” He finally yanked the cloak from the Ghost entirely...and to his surprise, discovered that he was holding his own gold-and-black bed curtains.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And we come to the close of our story, as Scrooge reveals how much he's changed...and is willing to help those around him.

Yes! The curtains were his own. The bed was his own. The room was his own. But happiest of all, his life was his own. There was time enough to make amends!

Scrooge hugged the bed curtains like a lover, his face wet with tears. “They are not torn down, rings and all! They're here! And I'm here!” Scrooge almost leaped out of bed, falling to the floor. “The spirits of all three shall strive within me! Heaven and Christmastime be praised for this, Sheev Marley! I say it on my knees! On my...” He winced as a splinter nearly went into his knee. “Maybe I shouldn't salute Christmas on my knees while on a bare floor.”

He was so excited, he found himself darting around his rooms, remembering and pointing. “There's the saucepan the gruel was in! I was so tired, I forgot to leave it to be cleaned. There's the chair where Sheev Marley sat. There's where the Ghost of Christmas Past stood when she arrived. There's the window where I saw those poor wandering spirits! It all right! It all happened!” He let out a fine, long laugh. It was quite a good laugh for someone who was very out-of-practice. The father of a long line of illustrious laughs!

He flung open his window. The fog and the mist of the night before had vanished. A glorious, chilly winter's morning had replaced the gloom of the previous day. He saw a familiar boy with blue-black hair making a snowman under his window, the one Caleb...Kanan had called Ezra. 

“Lad!” He yelled. “I say, what day is it?”

“Today?” The boy shrugged. “Why, it's Christmas Day, sir!”

“Brilliant! I haven't missed it!” Scrooge danced around by the window, ignoring the strange looks the boy gave him. “The spirits gave me another chance! Of course they can! They can do anything they want! And you can help me now, my fine fellow. Do you know that prize turkey hanging in the window at the butcher down the street?”

The lad nodded. “The one almost as big as me? I should say I do!”

“A remarkable boy! An intelligent boy!” Scrooge grinned. “I want you to buy it.”

“Walker.” Ezra turned away, rolling his eyes at this obviously barmy adult. 

“No! I am in earnest. Here.” He tossed a bag of money down to the child. “This will pay for it, and you can keep anything leftover. Give it to your father, with my blessings. Come back within twenty minutes, and I'll give you half a crown!”

“Wow! Thanks, sir!” Ezra waved and took off like a shot. 

Scrooge rubbed his hands in delight. “I'll send it to my son's house. It'll be a wonderful surprise. He shan't know who sent it. It's twice the size of Tiny Tim!”

“Scrooge!” He opened his door to reveal not one, but two familiar faces. Jyn Andor was accompanied by her swarthy husband Cassian. Both wore their nightclothes and looked rather peeved. “What did I tell you about all the racket in here? It's Christmas Day, ye know. Some folks only have one day a year where they get to sleep in.”

“See, Senior Scrooge,” Cassian added in his lilting Spanish accent. “Others sleep. You must keep it down!”

“I'm sorry, but I'm just celebrating the holiday.” Scrooge grinned and pulled two bags out of his drawer, handing one to Jyn and another to Cassian. “I realize that I haven't been much of a tenant. That's enough for two month's rent, plus to help you do any repairs and landscaping that may need to be done, including restoring that old bell by my fireplace.” 

“Mr. Scrooge!” Jyn's eyes were wide. Cassian's mouth hung open. His wife just shook her head. “I don't know what to say. We don't have nothin' for you.” 

“Say 'Merry Christmas'!” Scrooge closed his hands around hers. “That's all that needs to be said. It's a gift...and a thank-you for being good landlords who have always seen to mine and the other residents' needs.”

“Why, you're welcome, Mr. Scrooge!” Jyn pumped his hand so hard, he nearly bounced off the floor. “Thank you so much!”

“We have friends who are monks at a church a few blocks away.” Cassian gave him a toothy grin. “We would be honored if you'd join us for the morning service there.”

Scrooge beamed. “It would be a pleasure. Just...” he looked down at his nightshirt, “let me get dressed first. I'll meet you downstairs.”

Shaving would have been hard enough with his hands shaking, if he hadn't been dancing while he did it. If he'd accidentally cut off his nose, he would have thrown a piece of sticking plaster over it and been quite satisfied. 

Dressed in his best, he met young Ezra at the door to the main house. There never was such a bird! It was so plump, it could never have walked on it's legs when it was alive. They would have snapped like twigs. Poor Ezra practically disappeared behind it.

“You could never carry that all the way to Camden Town! You must have a cab.” Scrooge gave him the money and the promised crown. “Tell the driver to keep the change. And here,” he handed him one more coin, “is a not for your dear father. Tell him Mr. Anakin Scrooge, an old friend from his days with Yoda Fezziwig, would like to get together the day after tomorrow to discuss old times.”

Ezra's wide blue eyes were somewhere between confused and shocked. “All right, sir...Mr. Scrooge. Thank you! I'll tell Kanan that. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, lad!” Scrooge saw to it that the boy got into the cab before he was joined by Jyn and Cassian. Their friend Bodhi, a bright Arabic lad with gentle dark eyes, drove them to church.

Scrooge hadn't seen the inside of a church since his Padme died. The monk who greeted Cassian like an old friend and called Jyn “little sister” was a robust man with flowing locks and a weathered old face. He was joined by another man, Chinese like his friend, who wore a monk's cassocks and carried a walking stick. Scrooge noticed his pale, sightless eyes as he shook his hand.

“Hello there, sir.” The man had a truly lovely smile. It shown from ear to ear, giving him the look of beatific bliss.“Mrs. Andor tells me that you're a newcomer, or more, that you've returned to the fold. It's wonderful to hear that someone wants to start over in life. You're never to old for a fresh start.”

He wished the kind monk could see his own radiant smile. “Thank you, Brother. I think I understand that better now.”

After the church services, Jyn invited him to dinner at their rooms, but he declined. “Sorry, Mrs. Andor, but I already have an engagement with my daughter and her family. Perhaps we could get together next week and discuss those repairs.”

“That's too bad, Senior.” Cassian shook his hand. “When you do not yell, you are fun to be around.”

He took their leave and moved on. Everyone was out and about on this fine Christmas afternoon, chasing each other or sliding on the ice. As he took the first slide he'd had in overy 20 years, he almost literally ran into two familiar faces.

“Oof! Snips!” His grin upon meeting his former apprentice and gruff old Captain Rex was genuine. Though they wore finer clothing than they had the day before, they still carried their tin cups...and neither appeared to be especially happy to see him. “I'm so pleased that I ran into you. I'm sorry about what happened yesterday at the counting house.”

He was startled at how closely the grown Ahsoka, with her white fur cloak and long blue-ribboned braids, resembled the Ghost of Christmas Past. The sun even glinted off the tin cup like the Spirit's lamplight. “It's all right, Skyguy,” she finally admitted. “It's Christmas. If you're ready to forgive, so am I.” 

“Let's say I've learned a lot in the past few hours, Snips.” He leaned over Captain Rex's ear. “Put me down for...” He whispered a considerable sum that made the Captain's dark eyes widen. 

Ahsoka had been listening in. Her grin nearly split her face. “Do you mean that, Skyguy?”

“Skyguy.” Anakin threw back his head in a hearty laugh. “How I've missed you calling me that! Yes, I mean it. There's a great many back-payments included in that, I assure you.” 

Captain Rex shook Anakin's hand so hard, Anakin could barely feel it when he pulled it away. “Thank you, Anakin! You've just made the present brighter for a lot of good people. Like this lad and lass here.” He pulled away...revealing two small ragged children, like the two that had been under the Spirit's cloak. “These tykes wouldn't have a Christmas at all if we hadn't given them a box with turkey and tinned food and gifts.” 

“I was glad to do it.” His smile softened. “Put it in my name...and Padme's.” 

Ahsoka nodded, a tear glinting in her eye. “Miss Amidala would have wanted it that way.”

“She'd be proud of you, mate.” Rex patted his shoulder. “And so am I.”

“Come and visit me!” Scrooge grinned. “Come and visit me next week! I'll keep the cider piping hot for you!”

“We will, Skyguy!” Ahsoka waved as Rex grinned behind her. “We will!” And her eager voice sounded as if she meant it.

Scrooge had never had such a pleasant late afternoon. He questioned beggars and treated them to hot chestnuts from a wagon, scratched dogs between the ears, patted children on the head, and looked into windows, waving to people getting ready for their holiday meals as he passed. As the sun dipped slowly behind the rooftops, he finally got up the nerve to go to his daughter Leia's front door and knock.

“Hello, sir?” The little golden-haired lass with the two buns on the top of her head greeted him. “May I help you?”

“Is Mr. and Mrs. Solo at home?” Dear girl! Pretty and smart, he'd wager. There was something in her pert expression that almost made him think of his own Leia in her younger years. She had that same intelligent mischief to her. 

“They're in the dining room, sir,” she explained. “I'll show you upstairs.”

“That's all right, lass. He knows me.” Scrooge followed her to the dining-room door. “I'll just let myself in from here.”

The moment he went in, he noticed the enticing array of food on the tables. Kes and Poe were already helping themselves to biscuits and cakes and candied fruit. Little Bee Bee the pup begged for treats by their side.

“Leia!” He called out at the top of his lungs.

Dear me, how Han nearly jumped six feet! Scrooge had forgotten that his nephew by marriage was sitting on the footstool by the corner. Leia was no less startled when her father went right over to her and gave the biggest hug and kiss he possibly could. 

“Father?” Leia sputtered, speechless for once in her life. “What...how...I thought you weren't coming!”

“I changed my mind. Decided I wanted a decent meal for a change. Gruel every night does get very dull after a while.” He went to shake his nephew-in-law's hand. “Han, my boy. It's good to finally meet you. I heard you have a shipping business. Your wife says you do quite well for yourself. Perhaps we could chat sometime soon, businessman to businessman.” 

“Well...yes.” Han's famous smirk spread across his handsome face. A capitol face it was, too. Truly, Leia's husband could have been a matinee idol or an explorer from the penny dreadfuls if he'd had a mind for it. “I'd like that, sir.”

“Call me 'Father.'” He gave him a grin of his own. “We sensible businessmen ought to stick together. There's so few of us.”

Han's smirk widened even more. “Damn straight, Dad.”

It was a wonderful party. He was at home in five minutes. There were the Tico sisters, when they came in, and they looked just the same. So did Finn and Lando, when they came, and Kanan and his children when they came. He greeted Kanan like a brother and talked old times with him, and Kanan thanked him for the payment to his son Ezra for delivering the turkey.

Old Ben Willkins was sipping cider and reading a book in the corner when Scrooge found him. “Ben,” he said, “I'm going to say something I should have said a long time. I'm sorry. I was an idiot, and not much of a brother. I know you could probably never forgive me...”

Ben gave him that same warm smile he'd known so many years before. “You've already proved that you're at least somewhat willing to change just by coming here. Perhaps we could discuss it further over lunch in the back of my bookshop next week, after the New Year. I always order it from Lando's Tavern. He makes a smashing shepherd's pie.” 

“That would be splendid! I haven't had a good stick-to-your-ribs shepherd's pie in years.” He gave Old Ben a hug, just like he used to when they were as close to brothers as anyone who wasn't related could be. “I've missed you, old friend.” 

“And I've missed you.” His friend nodded in the direction of the younger Ben and his two friends. “Why don't you talk to your grandson? He's got a good head on him. Maybe you can use him. He's wasting away with that blighter Snoke.”

Scrooge nodded. “I think I will. Thank you, Ben.”

Indeed, Young Ben, Hux, and Phasma were all chatting in a corner, just as they had when he was with the spirit. “Hello there, grandson!” He shook the young man's hand so firmly, he nearly shook all the cider out of his cup. “You know, I've been thinking about taking on more help. I'm going to be taking on a new partner, and there will be an opening for a clerk. I can pay you twice as much to start off as that blaggard Snoke would, and you'll be keeping it in the family.”

“You will?” Ben raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said I had to keep my nose to the grindstone and not let myself get involved with day-to-day distractions.”

“Son, let me tell you something.” He put a hand on the youth's shoulders and gazed straight into those black doe eyes that looked so much like his daughter's. “Someday, you're going to wake up and discover, like I did today, that those day-to-day distractions were more important than all the ledger books and all the cash boxes in the world. Working hard doesn't mean you can take time aside to enjoy the small things in life. Don't let them pass you by.”

Hux snorted. “What tripe!”

But Ben's eyes shown, and he looked thoughtful. “I'll consider it, Grandfather.”

It was a delightful party after that. He joined in on every game, even 'Yes and No.' He danced with Leia and Rose, sang along when Poe played the guitar, fed Bee Bee pieces of chicken and fish when no one was watching, and exchanged stories with Han, Kanan, and Lando about their experiences in business. In short, he had the best time he'd experienced since the beginning of his and Padme's courtship, and it made him feel ten years younger. 

But he was at the office bright and early the next morning. Oh, he was early! He wanted to catch his son coming in late. That was the thing he had his heart set upon.

The clock struck 9 on the dot. No Luke. A quarter-past. His son was nearly a full twenty minutes late when he dashed into the room, his usual scarf and waistcoat flying behind him like fairy's wings.

“I'm so sorry, Father!” He gasped, rather red in the face from running. “I didn't mean to oversleep, but we were making rather merry last night. Someone had Kanan Jarrus' boy deliver the biggest turkey you ever saw. I thought it was a mistake at first, but Mara said no, it was ours...”

“It was no mistake.” Scrooge narrowed his eyes and tried to look stern. “Come over here, boy.” He glared behind his desk as well as he could as Luke slunk slowly into his office. “I'm not going to stand for this sort of thing anymore! It's about time we did something about it!”

“Oh Father, no!” Luke was nearly on his knees in front of the desk. “It's only once a year, Father! Don't fire me!”

“You know what I'm going to do?” Scrooge's pockmarked face broke into the widest grin it had worn in 20 years. “I'm going to raise your salary.” He laughed as Luke's jaw dropped open. “Yes, my boy! I'm going to raise your salary, give you a promotion to partner, and assist your struggling family! Scrooge and Son! How does that sound? Better than Scrooge and Marley, ehh?”

“I..I...oh Father...” That was when Luke remembered. “I...Father, I have something for you. To thank you. I guess it's a Boxing Day gift now. My son Temiri and I made it. He's so clever with carving. The suns look like they could actually give heat, they're so real.” He pulled the wood twin suns pendant out of his pocket and handed it to his father. “Merry Christmas. No matter what happens to you, Temiri and I love you.”

Anakin stared for a long time at that pendent, turning it over in his fingers. “It's fine work, lad.” He gave him a shy grin. “You know, I have a knife that I haven't used for a long time. Perhaps, if you don't mind, sometime in the next few weeks, I could visit your home and give your son a few carving lessons. I used to carve quite often myself as a lad. I wish I could show you the pendent I made for your mother, but it was buried with her.”

“I'd like that, Father.” Luke's grin could have lit every lamp in London. “And Temiri would, too.” 

“Now, lad,” he immediately went to the coal scuttle, “let's fill that stove and warm up this icebox, and we'll discuss all of this over a bowl of smoking bishop.”

He did it all, and infinitely more. The very next day, they finally replaced that old sign over his counting house door with one saying “Scrooge and Scrooge.” Ben Solo came to him two days later, saying he'd left his job with the First Order Savings and Loan and was still interested in the clerk job, if it was open. He eventually hired on sensible Rey as well.

He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man as the good old city ever knew. He could frequently be seen chatting over tea and a new novel with Ben Willkins, or enjoying a hearty stew at Lando's Tavern, or giving out boxes to the poor with his daughter. He never again was visited by spirits, but he never forgot the things he learned that foggy Christmas night. It was said that he knew how to keep Christmas alive in his heart, if any man ever possessed the knowledge.

May that be truly said of us, and of all of us. And as Temiri, who did not die, once said, “God bless us, every one!"

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad you enjoyed my story! There's more coming in the New Year, including "Star Wars" retellings of "The Snow Queen" and "Robin Hood!"


End file.
